


Sweet Child O' Mine

by wRitngKnks_Lix



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherhood, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Heavy Angst, M/M, Non-Idol AU, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Sibling Bonding, Slice of Life, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25285384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wRitngKnks_Lix/pseuds/wRitngKnks_Lix
Summary: Changbin had a family once, until the day came when he didn't.He spent his childhood years bouncing between rounds at the orphnage and new foster homes. At the age of eighteen, the orphonage was his new home. Nobody wanted a roudy teenager around.A visit took him by surprise- he was being adopted. Only to find a new brother with his new home. A loud, annoying, will not keep his mouth shut type of brother; his name was Felix.Follow Changbin as he struggles with memories of the past and the road of discovery to new-found family.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14
Collections: STRAY KIDS BIGBANG: 2020





	1. Home Sweet Home... I think

**Author's Note:**

> This will be my second fic- my newest baby :) I wanted to thank the mod team for making this collab possible. Without them I probably would have never started this. Anywho, I hope you enjoy!  
> And also thank you to the artist who took on the task of creating such a wonderful piece for this fic! I couldn't have asked for anything better :) 
> 
> Here's the link to their art!  
> https://drive.google.com/file/d/1dtY56hwZte0f3pYLk1tOuK9eRTI9srQ4/view?usp=sharing
> 
> P.S Please don't be afraid to comment !! It makes a writers day and keeps us motivated :)

*PROLOGUE*

It was late and cold, the moon lazily sliced against the twinkling lights. The cool air hit his lungs in a cold thrust, but it kissed the curve of his cheek gently. He winced at the contact, letting out a gruntled hissed through his teeth. The cuts from hours before were fresh and bruised around the corners- sensitive to the touch. The screams of the nurses rang through his head, their harsh grip lingering. It was useless; his strength outbeat theirs and the last punch landed on his bunkmate’s jaw. His fist clenched at the thought. _The bastard deserved it._

The night air bit at his exposed skin, but he remained stagnant- entranced by the curve of the moon. He’d rather sit on the roof than face his bunkmate’s busted lip and swollen jaw. He rested his head against the door allowing the cold stone to fix him in a trance. A sigh escaped his lips as he shut his eyes. His chest seemed to contract and tie itself in knots- there lay a heaviness he could not put down. The warmth surged in his blood in spite of the moonlight’s embrace.The crimson flames illuminated before his closed eyes. A tear trickled down his cheek- rapidly it flew down to the corner of his lip and to the tip of his chin. It was bitter and salty. His arms wrapped in on themselves, clenching to the very skin he despised. He grabbed at himself, clawing his way through thick air in search of a closeness, a fondness he yearned to once again call his own. _It’s useless._ He rubbed his temples and chest, aggressively tainting his skin with the red imprint of his fingers- a habit he’s had ever since the incident. _Get a grip Bin. You can’t change the past._ His head hung low, his hand resting heavily on the crook of his neck. The cool wind whispers lullabies, singing the poor boy away from his spot on the rooftop.

* * *

Changbin wakes to the gentle yet harsh tapping on his shoulder. The sunrise hits him all at once- the gold and burnt orange seeping into focus. One of the nurses stands in front of him.

“How many times have I told you to stop sleeping on the rooftop,” she scolds. “It gets awfully cold.”

His lips quirk up into a faint smile. _Carrie._ She’s the only nurse who understood him- to a certain extent. She was only a few years older than Changbin, the youngest out of all the nurses in the orphanage. He always wondered why she’d chosen this particular job. In fact, he’d voice those very thoughts. Her response would be a quick shake of the head and a soft breathy laugh. _“To take care of bad boys like yourself,_ ” she’d say.

“Come down.” Her voice shakes him out of his thoughts. “You’ve got some packing to do.”

His head shoots up at her words. _Huh?_

She bends down to ruffle his hair. “Looks like someone’s here to adopt you.”

_Me? Adopted? That doesn't sound… right._ His bare feet drag along the cement until he’s hit by a blow on his back. It’s Carrie, who’d thrown a pair of slippers at him. “You’ll get sick with the cold traveling up your legs.” He took the slippers apprehensively, but slipped them on. Much to his relief, his bunkmate was out of bed, his covers messily strewn across the mattress. He slipped out of the slippers and chucked them in the corner. _That’s his problem now._ Jeans, shirt, jacket, socks and converse were thrown on in a matter of seconds. He threw his belongings in his shitty blue beat down suitcase and zipped it up with nimble fingers. Sparks seemed to jolt from the metal lining. He stopped and let the blue from his suitcase consume him. Cold was all he felt as he sat his palms on top. His chest was puffing in uneven breaths, his heart tapping away at irregular beats. _This is weird. How do I make it stop?_ His eyes scanned the room once more, finally resting on his bunkmates messy covers. He huffed and let out a small curve of the lips. _So long. Asshole._

Stepping into the office, Changbin’s beating heart halted. His eyes examined the man before him. Burnt complexion from the sun, red paisley bandana around his grey (rather damaged) long hair. It reached his shoulder blades. His beard, grey as well, was long too reaching past his chest. His black denim vest jacket was ripped at the seams of the sleeves and a big, bold band patch sat across the left pocket. It read ACDC. Instinctively he looked down at his jacket. It was littered with band patches he’d collected over the years. Carrie had sewn them on because he’d always prick his fingers instead of stitching any material on. He would miss her, although he would never admit it out loud. The man sat in a chair across from the head director signing papers until he noticed Changbin’s looming figure and baby blue suitcase standing in the corner. He smiled- an odd contrast to the hard rock n’ roll appeal he gave off. Changbin’s eyes scattered over his arms. _Damn, I_ _wonder how many watermelons he can break with just his arms._ He was buff, of wide stature and enjoyed more than eight meals a day. He was big to say the least, but forged of steel; he was all muscle.

“You like em’?” His voice was husky and rough; it made Changbin want to scratch his throat. The man pointed at his sleeves of tattoos. Changbin blinked, but muttered not a single word. The man’s eyes landed on his jacket and a familiar patch that resembled his own. “You like rock n’ roll?” Changbin cleared his throat, the itchy sound of his voice irritating his senses. Once again, the man smiled. He stood and shook hands with the head director. He bid them farewell and walked straight towards Changbin; he took his blue suitcase and turned before saying, “You comin’ or what?”

Changbin’s mouth almost betrayed him at the sight of the Harley Davidson bike that sat before him. _Be cool._ The man tapped the leather covered seat. “Sweet ride, ain’t she?” He remained silent and only offered him a shrug of a response. “You’re not much of a talker, are ya?” Another shrug. The man let out a chuckle and revved the engine. “Believe it or not kid, you and I are goin’ to get along just fine.” Once again, he tapped the seat. “Hop on.” He had no choice but to strap himself onto the seat. He handed him a helmet, “Slap this thing on. I don’t want you dying on me just yet.” And with that, he stepped on the gas, leaving a trail of smoke and the rusted double doors of the orphanage behind.

*

The house was cleaner than Changbin had expected, well organized too, to say the least. His eyes landed on the recliner that sat in front of the coffee table. “It’s yours now too.” The man tapped the grey suede lining and beamed. “I’ll take your stuff into the room and let yourself get familiar with the place.”

He left Changbin empty handed, vacant and uncomfortably alone in the living room. He took small strides across the room, examining the pictures on the wall. Mostly rock concerts and signed band tees that were framed, except for one that stood dead center. It was a boy, about his age, dirty blonde hair and freckles scattering the bridge of his nose and cheeks. He sat on the same Harley Davidson bike smiling wide at the camera lense. The excruciating, irreplaceable screeching of metal drove him away from the picture and into the kitchen. There sat the same freckled boy with doe eyed shock. For a moment, none of them said a word. The silence was irritating, but was a new found bliss once the boy across from him began to talk. The boy licked the residue of syrup off the fork he held in his hand, careful to get every last crumb of pancake in between the tines. He gulped down the last few ounces of milk he had left and wiped the excess white mustache with the back of his hand. He smiled brightly extending his hand out. _Gross._

“Hey, I’m Felix.” Changbin grunted in response leaving his hand out to dry. _Felix? So he already has another kid. Why adopt me?_ The question irked his brain, but found no answer. “Our room is down the hall.” Our? Before he could complete that thought, Felix yanked him by the wrist down the hall. Changbin released himself from his grasp upon entering their room. _Who does this punk think he is?_ Felix shuffles things around and even throws some objects under the bed. _What is he_ _hiding?_ “I can take the sofa. Sorry we haven’t had time to buy a new bed.” Changbin scans the room. It’s messy and holds a different atmosphere from that of the living room. The sofa is parallel to the bed, an inch away from resting on the closet doors. His sheets are a lavender blue messily tucked in to the borders. The walls are white and bare, but the eye strain is heavy on the desk he has propped up by the door with textbooks, pens, pencils and crumpled paper that sit like little pods. The floor is in a sadder condition- there are piles of dirty clothes sitting around the room like landmines waiting to be triggered. _Has this kid ever cleaned up in his_ _life?_ The obvious answer was no. Changbin cautiously maneuvered his way around the room to sit on the sofa. Felix followed and sat on his bed unaware of the clear disgust Changbin was feeling at the moment. He examined his face and scrunched his nose at the ugly bruise on the high of his cheek bone that was now a painted patch of yellow and purple. “Do you want some ointment?”

“What?”

Felix’s heart jumped at his voice; it was new and cutting. He pointed at his cheek bone. “For the bruise.” Changbin resorts to grunting and casting his eyes to the dirty boxers in between his converse. “How did you get it anyway? Does it hurt?” _Is that even a question? Of course it does_. What comes out is another grunt.

Their heads turn at the sound of a knock on the door. It’s the man with an overly dramatic and corny chef’s hat lazily drooping from his head. “Hope you boys are gettin’ along.” He directs his attention to Changbin. “You hungry? I can cook you up a stack of pancakes.” The grumble of his stomach pried him to take the offer. He nodded and followed him into the kitchen. To Changbin’s dismay and mild irritation, Felix followed after. He plopped down next to him. _He already ate._ _Why is he here?_ The man whistled while preparing the pancakes as Felix and Changbin basked in silence. The pancakes were done in five minutes and soon the two boys were left alone. As soon as Felix’s mouth opened, Changbin fought the urge to roll his eyes. Hard.

“I like your jacket,” he points to one of the patches, “ _Guns N’ Roses_ are my favorite.”

Changbin scanned the boy; he was small, scrawny like- the denim vest he had on drenching him in fabric. His whole demeanor was frail, _totally not rock n’ roll_ _vibes._ Felix’s eyes were the size of saucers anticipating Changbin’s response. He was only met with silence. Again. The freckled boy sat in awe as Changbing stuffed his face with the rest of the pancakes scraping the fork unnecessarily across the plate in hopes to annoy Felix. He stands without uttering a word washing the syrup off the plate. Felix sits in his seat completely oblivious to his obnoxious eagerness as he presses on. “Although _Journey_ is also one of my favorites. I have one of their albums on vinyl. Dad bought it for my birthday.”

Changbin remained tight-lipped, the faucet doing all the talking, but he listened to the boy gush about his favorite bands. They weren’t necessarily _his_ favorites, but good nonetheless. He enjoyed their tracks every now and again. Felix continued, “Do you have a favorite? You have so many on your jacket.” The chuckle he meant to let out got stuck in the middle of his throat and instead came out as a nervous, breathy hiccup. Changbin cocked his head a centimeter closer to Felixs’. _This kid’s weird._

“Can I guess?” The childish giddy practically shot through the back of Changbin’s head, he is not subtle at all. Changbin hadn’t known the boy for too long, but long enough to know his eyes were popping out of their sockets out of pure, innocent glee. He spitballed names, one after the other. “ _Pink floyd? ACDC? Nirvana?_ Oh how about _Kiss?_ Wait no, _Foo Fighters?_ No, I’ve got it! _The Killers._ ”

_God, will you please shut this kid up?_ His voice crawled under Changbin’s skin and knotted his nerves in tight circuits. He focused on the sound of the gushing water in hopes of drowning out the sound flowing from his lips. Felix couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he'd had anyone to talk to. His Dad tried, but it wasn’t the same.

Changbin turned off the water with a grunt and placed the dish in the rack. He left Felix alone in the dining room and took off to his new bedroom (dirty and quite messy might he add.) Felix was confused but scurried after Changbin’s trail. The zip from his suitcase could be heard from down the hall. Changbin had it neatly placed on top of the sofa avoiding all surfaces that were littered with Felix’s dirty boxers or crumpled up papers. He grimaced as he stacked his clothes beside his suitcase. Although the sofa was the only boxer free zone of the room, one could only be so careful.

Without a word, Felix sat cross-legged on his bed, his eyes traveling with Changbin’s every move. He shot straight up as a small blue and white plushie stumbled out of his suitcase. “Cool! You have Munchlax? I’ve always wanted one of these.” Felix’s elited fingers brush against the plushies fur, but are slapped away by Changbins growl and rough grip. “Back off.”

Felix’s eyes danced wildly between his now empty hand and the white knuckled grip Changbin had on the plushie. For a second, Changbin’s chest tightened- his heart thundering in the cave of his rib cage. No one was allowed to touch him. No one. He was the only thing left.

Felix’s voice was now nothing but a mouse as he squeaked out a meek apology. It’s not that he was scared, just a bit startled. He’d come around sooner or later- of that he was sure. He ensued his position on the bed and slid out the journal he’d desperately tried to hide moments ago. None of them uttered a word after the outburst. Changbin continued to unpack as the sound of pencil on paper consumed the bedroom walls.


	2. Runaway

Changbin landed on the now empty sofa with a thud; he let out a huff and closed his eyes. The room was painted black, the only light shining through was the one from the moon and the dimly lit lava lamp that stood next to Felix’s hunched over frame. His hand was yet moving with ease across the page. They spent the afternoon as such: Changbin unpacking and Felix ominently quiet, entranced by the swift of his pencil. _How odd_. He would admit, hearing nothing blabbering out of Felix’s mouth was strangely eerie. It almost seemed unnatural- he wasn’t complaining though.

A soft whisper interrupted his thoughts, “Hey.”

Changbin internally groaned.

“Do you want the lamp on? I’m kind of a heavy sleeper so it won’t bother me if I leave it.”

Changbin left Felix’s question unanswered and rolled over on the sofa, his back facing him. He tightly held onto the plushie; it was firmly pressed against his chest.

Felix’s whisper filled the room once more, “I’ll take that as a no.” He kept his eyes on Changbin’s back, although knowing his comment would be left unanswered. In some ways, he reminded him of Dad. Hard core rock n’ roll and aloof but soft. Felix knew he was a talker, a natural born babbler to put it gently. It made him insecure because all he could hear was the boys back at the orphanage chanting _annoying, annoying, annoying_. But Dad taught him to ignore comments like that. He wasn’t annoying; he repeated it to himself every morning and every night- he just hoped Changbin wouldn’t see him as a pest. His fingers found the switch of the lamp and let the room be engulfed in darkness. Before he could lay under the covers, he blew Changbin a gentle ‘goodnight.’

Changbin lay awake. He waited until Felix drifted into a deep sleep to surrender from the uncomfortable position he found himself in. The sofa was too small for his frame and his neck was craned in a weird, frozen fixture on top of its arm. With mild discomfort, he stood, still holding tightly to the stuffed creature. “Come on Gyu, let’s get out of here.” He tip-toed across the land of dirty laundry avoiding the touch of any stray boxer. Felix was a heavy sleeper, he remembered hearing, so he didn’t bother in being so subtle in opening the window. Lucky for him, there was a tree right outside the room; he was up for the challenge of climbing up the side of the house like an animal, but a tree was a helpful adjustment. He stuffed Gyu in the collar of his long sleeve and clambered onto the branches of the tree. He’d never climbed a tree before and doing it barefoot was not making it easy or pleasant. He was sure to wake up with tiny scratches on the soles of his feet.

After what felt like the hours of the night had slipped through his fingers, Changbin set foot on the rooftop. The tiles were scratchy and rough- nothing he wasn’t used to. Definitely different from the ones of the orphanage, but similar in texture. He scampered cautiously on his footing. The roof was slanted after all. He took millimeters of a step until his back finally rested against the wood of the house. The wood was slightly chipped and splinters poked through the back of his shirt; it was itchy to say the least. Changbin shifted in his spot, the sandpaper material of the tiles scratching through his boxers. As he was aimlessly looking for the most comfortable position to rest in, a gust of wind picked up from the north. It forced him down, his palm hitting the tile quickly. Chills ran up his spine and in that moment he remembered Carrie. _She would kill me if she saw me up here._ He thought for a moment, but shook his head seconds later. Life had taught him to leave the past in the past. Dwelling on it, would only make it worse.

He tried to move, but he wouldn’t budge. _What the hell?_ He tugged harder but his hand always landed back in the same spot. He moved his other hand and again tugged. Nothing. The glint of the moonlight reflected back a tiny shine coming from the hem of his sleeve. _Goddammit._ It was a nail; a nail was keeping him in place. He struggled against the nail, thrusting about with annoyed force. A string of growled curses drifted into the night’s air. He was going to release himself from the stupid nail if it was the last thing he did. With one harsh yank and low grunt, his vision turned upside down. It was all too fast; there was no time for a reaction as his body flew into the air and stumbled down the roof. Smack, smack, smack he went as the branches flung themselves at him leaving tiny prints of reddened scratches along his forehead, nose, cheeks and legs. Gyu was up in the air too, landing in the bush right outside their window (miraculously with no severe injuries.) Seconds later, Changbin landed with a grumbled snarl on the same bush. _What the fuck just happened? Where’s Gyu?_ His arms went thrashing about the bush adding yet another set of small marks onto his hands. His fingers found the familiar touch of his beloved Gyu; he gripped him suffocatingly tight against his chest and breathed. He looked up and relaxed; the moon always had that effect on him. Without the light snores coming from Felix and the beam of the moonlight, he drifted into a heavy slumber.

*

Felix jolted out of bed at the smell of french toast. It’s Sunday! Dad always made french toast for Felix on Sundays as a compromise. No sugary treats throughout the week and he’d get french toast on Sundays- with powdered sugar and loads of maple syrup sprinkled on top. They were his favorite.

He threw the covers not once looking where they landed. _That’s a problem for another day_. “Dad made french toast,” he, almost out of breath from all the excitement, exclaimed to an absent Changbin. But as he didn’t hear the usual grunts he’d gotten accustomed to on his first day, he paused at the doorway. He was gone. No sight of him or his beloved stuffed creature. His clothes and suitcase were still neatly stacked next to the sofa along with his patched denim jacket. _He_ _wouldn’t run away without it, would he?_ He gave it no second thought as he yelled for Dad.

“He’s missing, Changbin’s missing,” Felix let out as his Dad stepped through the door. The spatula and the chef’s hat he’d lazily placed on top didn’t make him look any less menacing as he wandered about the room with an expression between worry and anger.

“He’s gotta be around here somewhere. Don’t worry, son.” He reassuringly placed his hand on Felix’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. “I’ll check out back, check around the house.” He left the room with a huff and a ruffle to Felix’s hair.

Felix stood dead silent for a moment wondering where he had gone, why he had gone, but he drew a blank. He paced the room, completely disregarding what his Dad had told him earlier. All the pacing set the room on fire; he opened the window and the sight below sent him in a panicked frenzy- his eyes were wide open, his mouth mirroring the action, but he couldn’t make a sound. _OH MY GOD IS HE DEAD?_ Felix’s leg flung over the edge of the window, but as he repeated the action with his left leg, he was caught in a loose nail. The cool morning air bit more at his skin as he flew forward onto a now awake Changbin. His eyes were deathly set on the sheepish grin on Felix’s lips.

“We thought you ran away,” Felix cautiously let out, afraid of Changbins next move.

“Get off.” His voice was yet new to Felix’s ears and caught him off guard. His eyebrows were knitted, his forehead scrunched, clearly confused as to what Changbin was demanding. “You’re squishing Gyu,” Changbin muttered through clenched teeth.

Felix’s eyes drew to Changbin’s chest and his fluffy companion. _Oh!_ It took a couple seconds, but Changbin’s words finally clicked in Felix’s brain and he poorly let himself off. A couple more grunts were heard from Changbin as Felix used his body as a balance beam to rest on his own two feet. He hopped a peppy little hop once upright and extended his hand towards Changbin. His eyes only bore laser beams into the black of Felix’s pupils. Changbin smacked his hand away and wrestled with the bushes’ claws. _I can get up myself._ Felix faintly leaned back and held the hand Changbin had shoved away. The floor suddenly seemed more interesting than meeting Changbin’s glare; the miniscule, aggravated gesture hurt him. Changbin noticed how he staggered back, but didn’t say a word. _Kid’s super_ _sensitive._ He clutched Gyu, huffing. The two stood in silence for seconds. Felix sliced the tension in half. His eyes were yet downcast, tracing the patterns of the weeds that grew in the midst of chunks of green, and his hand neatly tucked behind the other as if seeking protection. His voice matched the silent cries of the wind, “What were you doing out here, anyway?”

_This isn’t home._ The words were on the tip of his tongue, burning and stinging a feverish dance, but he let it dissolve. Now was not the time for frivolous teenage angst. “Your snores are annoying.”

_Oh?_ Felix’s nose scrunched up with the smallest purse to the lips; he couldn't help but pout. Was he really that loud and annoying? But he shook the thought away, more so relieved with Changbin’s appearance. “So, you weren’t running away?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I,” Changbin grumbled.

Felix examined his face- it was littered with tiny red marks on the apple of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and the ridge of his eyebrows. They were angry, rosy and swollen from the night long exposure. They were soon to be infected if not treated. Luckily, Felix had just what he needed. He bolted back in through the window and waved Changbin over to do the same. A small scoff huffed through his lips followed by a mere role to the eye. He followed suit and flung himself across the windowsill. He landed with a thud on the carpet.

“Dad’s out looking for you in the back,” Felix motioned with his finger. “I’ll let him know-”

His words were silenced by Changbins harsh grip on the younger’s wrist. “Don’t.” His eyes were cement blocks of stone suffocating the water lilied pools of light that were Felix’s eyes. He tried to interject, but Changbin blazed the skin of his wrist. “Drop it.”

He was strange, needless to say. _Strange._ Felix watched as the boy below him blew the breath of a bull, steam shooting from every pore in his body. Strong, powerful- deceitful. He seemed small despite the hostility in his irises. “Okay,” was all he responded. Changbin released his grip and dropped it to rest on top of his knee. He winched at the contact; he’d accidentally slapped the cut the tree had forged on his skin. “Let me disinfect the cuts.”

“I don’t need your help,” Changbin bit back.

Felix ignored his comment and slid the trunk from under his bed. He unlocked it, the insides revealing numerous amounts of gauze, bandages, alcohol, small needles, body wraps and the likes. It was the entirety of a mini mobile hospital. _What the hell is this kid doing with all this stuff?_ Changbin’s muscles tensed as the boy dug through the trunk and the rattle of needles and scissors sounded through the room. He was convinced he was now living with a psychopath. Felix dampened the gauze with alcohol and a red solution unfamiliar to Changbin. He inched closer to the window at the sight of it. “This should help.” Felix looked up to find Changbin already back flush against the wall. “What are you doing?”

Changbin stopped him with the palm of his hand. “I am not letting you touch me with that.”

Question marks flourished like flowers in Felix’s brain. “It’s just alcohol and povidone-iodine, it’ll seal the cuts up.”

Changbin stared at the gauze in his hands. His cuts were beginning to itch and were slightly tingly- he needed that gauze whether he liked the idea or not. He caved. “Will it sting?” He tried to sound intimidating and keep the stone hard aura on display, but the crack in his voice betrayed him.

Felix smirked. _Looks like he has a weakness after all._ “No,” he half lied. The povidone-iodine wouldn’t burn, but the alcohol- now that, would burn like a mother. He knew from past experiences.

Changbin huffed under his breath and scooted closer with a trace of hesitation. _I can’t believe I’m **actually** letting him touch my face._ He sucked in a breath as the gauze and mixture of solutions hit the deepest cut on the apple of his cheek. It didn’t help that it was right on top of the nasty bruise. It stung. And it stung bad.

He pulled back fast, clutching his cheek gently. “You said it wouldn’t sting,” he hissed.

Felix shoved him forward once more, a tight grip on his shoulder blade. “Hold still. And suck it up, it won’t burn for long.”

Changbin’s eyes widened in shock. Had he had the audacity to talk back in such a tone? “Listen kid-”

“I said hold still. You’re making it hard to disinfect the cuts. And you have a lot, so stop squirming.”

_This kid has a deathwish._ He puffed his chest out and wrapped his arms against it, but obeyed. The itching and tingly sensation had subsided significantly. At least he knows what he’s doing. Felix quickly finished soon after and began sticking tiny band aids on the scattered cuts. Changbin’s whole face was a band aid, the tiny scratches covering the majority of his face. Felix dug his hand in the depths of the trunk, pulling out another remedy. It was contained in a small mason jar, its insides a pale, translucent yellow.

“What is that,” Changbin asked with weariness laced in the quiver of his voice.

“This,” Felix pressed the jar onto his cheek and smiled, “is my beautiful creation.”

_Pardon me? Did he just say ‘his creation?’_ Changbin shook his head violently.

“But it’s all natural made from the plants in the backyard.”

_So it’s an experiment? Made by a teenage boy? From his dad’s backyard? That is a no from me._ Changbin continued shaking his head, pushing the insistent hand of the younger boy away from his face. Felix had already globbed on a significant amount of the oozy substance on his fingers. All he needed was for Changbin to remain still.

“It’s a natural painkiller, it’ll soothe the bruise. I promise this one won’t sting.”

Changbin was a hardass. A stubborn one at that, but he was of gentle nature. Much more than he let on. A part of him, the most miniscule fraction of his heart, enjoyed the attention and the worry. It reminded him of what used to be. It reminded him of home and a little thing called love. He gave in.

“It’s going to feel cool at first, but it’ll warm up,” Felix assured him.

“Just put it on,” he whispered. He feared if he spoke any louder, his true heart would come undone. Felix was right; the ointment surged minty freshness on his cheek. Changbin’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. Felix swirled the ointment roundabout covering every inch of the purple,red living on his cheek. It was a simple action, but Changbin wished it would last forever. For a moment, a distant fleeting moment, he was home. Not at the orphanage, not here, but home. With her. With him. With them. Felix’s touch was light and gentle, just like hers. _No_ , he stopped himself from falling deeper into the rabbit hole, _she’s gone now._ _They all_ _are._ He pulled himself awake from the feverish dream. “I think that’s enough,” he breathed. He cleared his throat, blinked rapidly and stood. “I gotta go.”

In a flash, Felix stood too unbothered by the spill of his concoction on the bedroom floor. He’d clean it up later, but for now Changbin was his only concern. The boy’s breath came in uneven breaths, his chest heaving as if his lungs had just carried him through a marathon in below zero degree weather.

“Where… where are you going,” Felix stumbled with his words as his body couldn’t help but mimic the actions of Changbin’s agitated state. “Dad’ll be here… I… I’ll go get him.”

“Don’t.” Changbin didn’t mean for his words to sound so …. _weak_. But his lips blew the truth he so desperately wished for his heart to contain.

Felix didn’t need to call for his dad. His looming figure hunched under the door, his head merely grazing the top of the door frame. His arms were folded into one another, his chest seathing with force. He glanced at Changbin- a hard stone gaze sweeping over the boy’s frozen stature. Changbin’s eyes locked with his, a moment of defeat flashing before them. There was no getting out of this one. It took one sweep of a glance for Felix to understand and slip through the door. The dad’s demeanor deflated as Felix stepped out; his arms unwove and the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes knitted loosely once again. He gestured with his head. “Let's go for a walk.”

“Can I atleast get dressed first?” Changbin looked down at his exposed legs and plaid boxer shorts.

“I’ll wait for you out front.”

*

The air was thick around the two, stagnant and cold between them. It was silent for half a block- he waited for Changbin to take initiative, open up on his own, but it was far too soon. He cut in, “You gonna tell me what happened?” Changbin’s demeanor had _leave-me-alone_ written all over it; his hands were stuffed in the pocket of his denim jacket and his foot lazily kicked a rock across the pavement. “Look kid, I get it. You’re not used to me,” he stopped and thought of Felix, “of us, but we ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Changbin faltered for a brief moment, the streak he had going with the rock now lost. His fingers clenched inwards, nails cutting into skin. He took no notice of Changbin’s tense posture and continued. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to escape anymore.”

The gesture and the words were meant to be soothing, calming and reassuring, but his touch and the bullshit act of ‘I know what you’re going through.’ was not cutting it for Changbin. He shoved his hand away, suddenly breathing fire and seeing red. “You don’t know anything! You don’t know me! And you’re not my dad, so stop trying to act like it,” he spit. His feet acted first, pounding their way through the streets without checking in with his brain. Changbin could hear his screams as they grew further, further, gone. Cars whizzed by and the morning air welcomed him in an unfamiliar setting. The streets seemed to stretch long and twist and turn- it was all new, but it didn’t stop him. He kept running, the burning in his lungs like a sigh of relief- a taste of freedom. He’d never gone past the orphanage walls, not for a long time.

A big, blazing, neon sign came up ahead. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes scanning the messy lettering sprawled across. It read ‘THE SWEET SOUND OF ROCK’ He stepped in through the already opened door. A sigh of content slipped through his lips. This was it. His new haven. The girl behind the counter welcomed him with a nod. He did the same and poured into the beauty of old rock n’ roll. The space was quite small; the counter was conveniently placed to the left of the entrance, the records were in a tight corner to the right and the rest of the place was filled with racks of merchandise. It was all he could ever ask for. The only off setting thing about the place was the bright orange color of the walls- it was one tiny quirk he was willing to live with. His attention immediately trained on the shelves of records in the corner; they were gorgeous. He ran his finger up their spines, flipping through _Def Leppard’s_ discography. He stopped, suddenly remembering Felix and his mini fanboy session the day prior. But why was he thinking about that? _No Bin, he is nothing to you._ But his fingers danced along, his eyes hopping until they found what they were looking for- a _Guns N’ Roses_ record. It’d been a while since he’d listen to their tracks- it wouldn’t hurt to buy one harmless record… would it? This had absolutely nothing to do with Felix, only a boy’s desire to listen to some good old rock n’ roll. He picked the record off its spot before he had a chance to change his mind. He patted his pockets- the twenty dollar bill he’d stolen from his bunkmate was still sinfully resting inside. He walked to the counter ready to ring up, but the bin next to the register caught his attention. It was glorious- the bin was filled to the brim with band patches, some unbeknownst to him. He dug his hand in grabbing a fistfull as he went- they were threads of gold between his fingertips. He skimmed the sign stuck to the bin’s side. Fifty cents per patch. _Jackpot._ He was engulfed by the many variations of colors and designs, so much so, the girl behind the counter completely forgotten.

She cleared her throat, annoyance laced in her voice, “Are you done? I’ve gotta close for lunch and you just standing there is mildly irritating.”

_Lunch?_ It was only noon.

“Excuse me?” Changbin didn’t like the way she talked. _Where’s the common decency? Can’t she at least try to suck it up and treat her customers with respect?_ Then it hit him. He was the girl behind the counter. He was the asshole too. He held the record tighter and thought of Felix and his dad. _They_ were trying. He sighed. _Suck it up, Bin. They’re your shelter now, whether you like it or not._

“Hello?” The girl obnoxiously waved her hand up to his face. He almost smacked it away. Almost. But he threw the twenty onto the counter instead.

“Just the record.”

She snatched the bill away, her poorly done manicure scratching against the glass of the counter. She muttered something under her breath; he caught the subtle eye roll as she flipped through his change. She threw five singles at him; they flew about, individually scattered across the glass. _What a bitch._ He stuffed them into his pocket and walked out.

The sun beat down on the side of his face, aggravating the small cuts Felix had patched up. He had started to sweat as he mindlessly wandered through the streets- it stung the minor leisures across his face. Changbin was well aware of his situation- he was lost with only five dollars in hand and no address he could possibly ask a stranger directions for. His stomach growled; it had been an hour since he’d left the bitchy girl at the counter. With five dollars he could afford nothing but the junk sold at convenience stores- he was no health nut, but chips and ice-cream were not his jam. He had to find his way back somehow, for the sake of his lioness hunger. His feet shuffled one after the other with a mind of their own. His mind was blank, nothing but a vastness of buildings and small shops vastly picked up by his peripheral vision as he shuffled through the busy streets. They paid no mind to the boy, despite his paled figure and uneasy footing. _Surely,_ _Mary Jane’s paid him a visit._ So they set off on their merry way and left the kid to wander.

In the near distance, he heard the familiar sounds of ducks quacking and kids playing- he set foot towards the sound desperate for a place to rest. Time was ticking with every step he took. It was no longer noon or a little after, but well through half the day. He’d been lost for hours. Finding the park was the only sliver of goodness the day had to offer (aside from finding the awesome store from who knows how many blocks away.) And the record of course. The grass welcomed him as he fell and stumbled onto his rear end. His only concern was the record. It wasn’t broken and so he heaved a sigh from both exhaustion and relief. He rested his head on the ground suddenly with a wave of pulses in his temples. He had been too busy losing himself to the city he’d dismissed the oncoming headache. It was bad and it was only getting worse, the pounding vividly striking his ears and the pain steadily crawling its way to his eyes. _Shit. A migraine. Haven’t gotten one of_ _these in a while. Almost forgot they hurt like a bitch._ He squeezed them as he placed a protective hand on top. The pounding was like drums. It was taking over his vision too. He was laying down, but he knew if he were upright he’d be down in a matter of seconds. He had definitely forgotten how bad migraines affected him. With no medication, he’d have to wait it out and beg for it to simmer before sundown. But he wasn’t so lucky. It only grew stronger to the point if he so as moved his eyes a fraction to the right or to the left, the pain eradicated further. There was no way he’d find his way back now; he’d have to sleep here in the park. The mistake was closing his eyes- as soon as he did, the grass seemed to open up under him swallowing him whole. He fell into a deep slumber, his grip tight on the record.


	3. All New Things

In the midst of his sleep, a breath tickled his cheek. It was light at first, but as he came into consciousness the breathing, he recognized, was much quicker and heavy. The light filtered through as his view came into focus, but so did Felix’s eyes, nose, and lips that were inches from his. Felix’s eyes flew wide, his mouth not faltering to follow. “Dad! He’s awake!” His close proximity and excruciatingly loud voice snapped Changbin back to reality. Desperate to get away from the freckled boy, he sat up fast. In an instant, a flash of pain crossed his temples. _Stupid migraine._ He winced and shut his eyes, the darkness mildly alleviating the hammering strings in his head. Felix came to his aid, a worried hand on his shoulder, and the pestering questions that seemed to strike his fancy. “Are you okay?” Changbin didn’t have the energy to brush him off or even offer him his signature grunt.

Heavy footsteps came charging into the living room. The dad, sunburnt from being out all day looking for Changbin, held a glass of water. He shoved it in his hand. “Drink.” He did not have to tell him twice. As soon as the glass came in contact with him, he chugged the water. Every drop was like liquid gold. “Come, sit.” Without waiting for a response, he lifted Changbin off the couch like a kid who’d wet the bed. He gingerly placed him on a chair at the dining table and set another glass of water for him. Changbin worked hard to fight the heat rising in his cheeks; he avoided Felix’s gaze after that as if it were the plague. It was nothing out of the ordinary for him to do so as he disliked the boy and often avoided all communication if possible, but their dad’s childly parental worry made him hyper aware of the situation. He’d run away with little to no money and no knowledge of the town they lived in. Needless to say, he knew how stupid he looked. No way in hell did he want Felix to see him like this- vulnerable, in pain, pale as a sheet, and small. Smaller than _his_ scrawny ass. He felt… _weak and lost_ more so in front of them; it wounded his pride.

A bowl was placed in front of him. The steam filled his nostrils signaling his mouth to water. Now this was real food. The chilli smelled amazing. Spicy and saucy, just how he liked it. He inhaled it, spoonful after spoonful, leaving no room to breathe. His stomach was full, happy, content.

“You want another,” the dad stood weary, one foot in the kitchen another in the dining room- he was ready to exceed Changbin's wishes if he desired another bowl, “You still look a little pale.”

Changbin denied- one bowl had been enough to fill his hunger, after all he wasn’t much of an eater. The dad relaxed and stepped fully into the dining room. Felix was heavily lurking in the back, but he was shooed away for the second time that day. His feet sped off only to slowly halt in the hallway. His actions went unnoticed by the tension that sat between the two in the dining room. Changbin forced back an eye roll and a scoff. _Here we go again._

“You’re right,” the dad began as he sat in the chair across from Changbin, “I don’t know you and I’m not your dad.” The tension rolled up his torn sleeves, gnawing at his burly muscles. He folded his hands in picking at the torn skin around his nails. The sight was almost childlike, but his eyes spoke different volumes. “But what you did is not okay.” His hardened gaze rapidly shifted, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You had me worried sick, kid.” He heaved in a sigh and scratched at his throat, his bitten down nails scraping across the sunburnt skin. It made Changbin feel guilty.

“You can’t just run away like that.”

Changbin sat without a word. If he sat there long enough he would disappear, he thought. It was that _feeling_ \- it charged at him and he wanted nothing more than to make it go away. And so he ran, ran from a feeling carved into him. It lived inside, but he ran and ran and ran. Atleast back in the orphanage he did so, but he could only go so far. The roof was his whenever the feeling acted up- that is everynight. It was like a rash no medication could cure. But the night, and the stars and the moon sang to him. They wrapped a gentle hand around his body and for a little while there would be nothing but light. He slept like that through the cool night. _Carrie._ She was always worried, but why did she bother herself? _It was her job._ That was all- he’d convinced himself. And so dangerously, with his heart reaching and beating he muttered a brave thing. “Why do you care?”

The response coddled him. “Because you’re my son now, biological or not.” It was tempting, it was so tempting to give in. He wanted to be a son again, and love a mother, a father, a sibling, a _family._ But he wasn’t them.

The dad let his shoulders fall, the tension melting away. He sighed, “Give me a shot kid, yeah?” His hand inched forward a bit and let it fall hastily back onto the table, “I want to know you and… I know I’ll never be like… your other family, but hopefully, you’ll let me come close.” He stood after, clearing his throat and shaking his shoulders. Sentiment wasn’t his forte.

The screeching of chair on tile alerted Felix who was still lurking in the hallway. He listened as his dad told Changbin off to bed. At the sound of Changbin’s nearing footsteps, he bolted as quietly as he could into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. He was not the best at acting “natural”; he stood inches away from the door with the _Guns N’ Roses_ record in his hand. Changbin almost crushed Felix’s nose with the heavy handed swing.

Winded at the sudden need to jump back, he breathily let out, “This was laying on your chest when we found you. Do you want to listen to it? I have a record player.”

Felix’s jumpy curt actions irked him, but decided he was too tired to simmer in boiling annoyance. He nods without putting up a fight.

Felix’s hands were moist with sweat; he let it fall onto his bed. His fingertips lingered on the matte surface of the record. He shuffled to his closet and threw it open. His bedroom floor was no match for the mess mounted in his closet. He swam through the moat of clothes. Whether dirty or clean, Changbin shuddered at the thought.

With a couple grunts and a few kicks and shove of the clothes, Felix managed to slide the closet doors shut. In his hands he held a beat down blue record player. “Dad picked it up from an old junkyard, said I could keep it. It’s cool isn’t it?”

Changbin sat in silence. No grunts, no words spit through clenched teeth, only silence. He watched Felix as he set the record player down on the piles of papers sitting on his desk. Within seconds, the record blared through the air. It was loud, booming-just how Changbin liked it.

He sat silently for a while more until Felix, with no heads up, threw his clothes onto the floor- one piece after the other. _So this is how his room ends up so_ _disorganized._ He wandered past him with just his underwear, back again to dive into the pool of clothing in his closet. Changbin stiffened at the sight. _How could_ _he be so shameless._ He tried to face away, but he strutted every corner of the room as if it were a necessary chore to do before bed. Changbin couldn’t help it. His cheeks lit up and his whole chest grew warm. He was shy; it sounded ridiculous to admit for a person of his physical demeanor, but he was shy and wasn’t too fond of undressing before anyone, let alone a stranger now forced to be his brother.

“Are you going to sleep in your clothes?” Felix stood before him, no longer nude much to Changbin’s relief.

Changbin didn’t mean to stutter, but he did. “Can you turn around?” He hoped his menacing glare gave him the extra edge his slip up had not.

Felix truly resembled a child; he did not understand and curiously questioned his remark. “Why?” But he could see the tinted sheen of pink on his cheeks and the awkward hunched over frame he rested with on the couch. _Is he… embarrassed?_

“Just do it,” Changbin cut in.

He complied. _Hm, guess he is shy._

He tore his converse off, setting them neatly at the head of the couch, his jeans were quickly zippered off and away beside his shoes, and his jacket was thrown over the arm of the couch. In spite of his flustered state, cleanliness _always_ came first.

“You can turn around now.”

Felix smiled brightly, feeling bad for pestering on like he always did. _I think I made him uncomfortable earlier._

Changbin sat again with Munchlax in hand. His eyes were set straight ahead, zoned out. Music always seemed to have that effect on him.

Felix lowered the volume on the record player- it jolted Changbin out of his daze. Felix was concerned; he’d run off possibly with the intention of staying away. What he heard earlier… he used to have a family, one he adored, but he wanted him to like _them_ \- his dad and himself. Perhaps he was being selfish, but he wanted to be his little brother and for Changbin to see him as that too.

“Are you okay?” Felix tentivaley approached him.

“I’m fine,” he huffed. His usual edge was gone; he sounded tired, no spunk left to bite on. With silence left between the two, Changbin leaned in to face the cushioned surface of his new bed, his new shelter; he would not let himself call this place home because it wasn’t. And he willed himself to believe that it would never be. He pressed Munchlax closer to his body letting him rise and fall with the beat of his chest.

The record kept spinning- loud and then soft, soft, softer. It had lulled him to sleep.

Felix sat on his bed watching as Changbin’s breathing became shallower. He waited, wishing, patiently hoping he’d have a change of heart- maybe not now, nor tomorrow or next month but someday.

He took the record out and stashed the record player under his bed. He glanced over his shoulder one last time before facing the wall. _He’ll come around_.

*

Felix’s clumsy stumbling woke Changbin. The lava lamp was still lit iridescently against the dark room. It’s red shadow cast itself against the bedroom walls, drifting up and down like magma. Felix jerked around some more- a few mumbled curses elisiting from somewhere around the room. _What the hell is he even_ _doing up?_ He squinted, the glow from the lava lamp swallowing his vision. Looking closer, the clock sitting beside it also glowed a godly amount of light into his eyes. He laid on his back as he squinted; it was getting him nowhere so he sat up a bit, curling his abdomen a fraction of an inch. He strained his eyesight farther, a stiff sensation like that of a ruler holding his neck steady.

“Oh, you’re up. Good.” Felix’s voice bounced off the walls in the midst of the pitch black. His footsteps could be heard walking past him and all at once the room lit up with a thousand dizzying beams. They shot straight at Changbin forcing him to shut his eyes. “It’s kind of hard getting dressed in the dark.”

“Then why not just turn on the lights like a normal person?” Changbin barked through with yet closed eyes.

Innocently, Felix stood firmly by the light switch. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Changbin sat on the couch motionless with Munchlax resting on his knees. His figure seemed deflated as he hunched over and his hair flopped over his eyes, but his words bit through his drained stance. “What the hell are you even doing?”

“Getting ready for school.” His response came out like a question; he was confused. “Didn’t Dad tell you?”

_School?!_ Changbin’s eyes shot open. He winced before the light, but he caught onto Felix’s clothing soon after. The person before him _was not_ the scrawny kid from two days ago. Well he was still scrawny, but Changbin dared to think he looked like a proper, fine young man- polished even. He was wearing slacks and were those dress shoes? He wore a white button up (a bit wrinkled), a burgundy tie (no doubt poorly wrapped), and a navy blue blazer to match the slacks. A patch was stitched onto the left breast of the blazer with an absurd yellow tree as its logo. He scanned Felix from head to toe once more before it sank into his brain. He was going to be a preppy school boy along with him. He let his body fall onto the couch with a grunt. Loud and clear enough for his frustration to show.

Felix’s name could be heard being called down the hall- the voice grew nearer until it found itself standing in the doorway.

“Ready for breakfast, boys?” As soon as he set eyes on Changbin’s figure strewn across the couch, it dawned on him he had forgotten to tell the boy his first day of school would start today. Changbin’s uniform was still neatly hung in his closet. He bolted down the hall and scurried back almost instantly. He handed the uniform to him. “Sorry kid, it slipped my mind.”

You have got to be kidding me. “Go on get dressed, we don’t have all day. You need to be fed and I need to get to work.”

He took the uniform, a scowl imminently painted on his face. He held no dislike towards the uniform itself, but it looked stiff, uncomfortable. The only thing irking him was the yellow tree patch on the blazer and the stupid pretentious name of _HH Wood Prep_ stitched underneath. _What kind of name was that anyway?_ He rolled his eyes. _It’s a private school. Why wouldn’t it have a stupid name like that?_

Felix shook him out of his thoughts. “I’ll leave you alone to get dressed. We’ll be at the table.”

He shut the door behind him.

*

Felix shoveled the eggs and bacon resting on his plate; he chugged the cup of orange juice too before setting the dishes down in the sink. He was a fast eater to say the least; it took him a total of five minutes to scarf down his breakfast.

“Breathe, son, breathe.”

“No can do, I have to meet Jisung for club today.”

“Are you that desperate to get away from your old Pop?”

Felix gave him the look; he always tried to pull the same tricks on him. “Dad, come on.” but before Felix could pull away, his dad called him back.

“Keep an eye on him okay?”

He didn’t have to mention it; Felix would try to be Changbin’s friend no matter what, even if it meant getting scowls and glares between mumbled sentences.

He nodded offering his dad a reassuring smile. His dad, he worried, more so than he should, but it showed he cared. Hopefully Changbin could see it soon enough.

He sped into his room and slid his journal and skateboard from under his bed. He had many things stashed there, but he managed. It was a miracle of sorts, how he could fit so much under one tiny bed.

“Are you ready to go?” he slung his backpack over his shoulders.

He paused. Changbin stood before him looking the snazziest he’s ever looked in his life. Surely, there was no need for clothes as such in the orphanage. He seemed uncomfortable, his neck hung low as if the stitching of the collar were spiked with itchy powder. Felix would admit the blazer was borderline itchy, but he didn’t mind it.

“I don’t have a backpack.” Changbin shoved his hands in his pockets.

Felix scanned the room; he had a spare here somewhere. He strutted to the closet and tousled under layers of old and unused junk. Why he kept it lying around, even he himself, did not know. He dug out a handbag from his first year; the strap was stitches away from tearing and the black leather was peeling at the edges with a few minor tears here and there. It was… decent. Surely he wouldn’t mind.

But he did and not because it was on the verge of falling apart in his hands, but because it had been stashed under the piles of dirty junk for god knows how long. _I can’t believe this kid_. But he had no other option. With a heavy grunt he took the bag from him and ever so gingerly placed it across his body.

“Let’s go, I’m gonna be late.”

Felix sped off. _Don’t you mean we?_ _How inconsiderate._ He trudged after him, switching off the light as he closed the door behind him.


	4. School Sucks

Felix stood by the driveway, patting his foot unsteadily against the pavement. _If_ _he’s in such a rush why didn’t he just leave?_ He paused for a second. _Right. I_ _don’t know where the school is, great thinking Bin._ They began on their way; Felix slightly ahead of him on his skateboard and Changbin taking it one step at a time beside him. Felix was reckless with wheels. If it weren’t for Changbin he’d be going at one hundred miles per hour.

Felix slowed down after a bit cruising right next to him. “So… are you excited?”

_It’s too early for this_. He looked straight ahead dismissing the question.

“Dad didn’t mean to throw you in empty handed. It’s just with everything that went down yesterday, his mind has been… somewhere else.” He let out a sigh. “You really worried him, you know?”

“Please kid, save me the speech.” _I’ll get a migraine before we even step foot in school._

“I just thought you should hear it,” Felix whispered, “maybe you’d start having a little faith in him.” _And me._ But that was beside the point in this moment.

Changbin’s heart stirred; he didn’t want it to. _Damn you,_ he cursed it. But it clenched tighter, ticking, waiting for yearning, waiting for anything to come and save it. A ticking time bomb sat cooly in his chest and he silenced it in any way he could; he altered the wires to keep it from ticking- to keep it away. But this once, it won.

“What does he do?” He spoke flatly as to not get Felix too excited.

But of course, his attempts failed. His hushed demeanor morphed quickly. “Dad? He owns his own mechanics shop. It’s the best in the neighbourhood.”

_That’s… slightly cool._

“He mostly specializes in motorcycles though,” he continued.

_That explains the bike._

“I can ask Dad to take us to the shop this weekend. Sometimes he lets me sit on the ones they’re about to scrap.” Changbin listened as Felix rambled on. A part of him leaned closer and closer into the idea; he wanted to go, he wanted to have fun for once ever since the incident. It was a feeling he longed to feel again, but he knew better. It was best to remain within himself and not out- never out.

He remained silent. Felix’s gleeful eyes went without escape from Changbin’s vision. His cheeks were slightly puffed out by the tight smile on his face; he looked… happy. _You’re only raising his hopes up… and your own._ Changbin took one last glance at the boy’s face. _Nothing good ever comes from hoping._ He returned his attention to the leather of his shoes, his jaw taught with forced silence. A small sigh escaped Felix’s lips. It was a simple brush of a breath, but the heaviness sat in the air between them- he was disheartened.

“Well, when you’re interested the offer still stands,” Felix puffed out. “School’s just up this hill.”

Changbin watched as he cruised faster up ahead. He wasn’t too far behind. In the near distance he could see Felix locking in his skateboard at the main entrance. Changbin thought that maybe he’d finally broken him, that he'd stop trying to act like the welcoming committee, but with a firm grip on the loose strap of his backpack, he waited for Changbin on the front steps. His strong willed nature was admirable, although it was hard for him to admit. He never gave up, and truly Changbin didn’t know if he knew how to.

Felix waved him over, running up the misshapen and rickety steps. Much to Changbin’s surprise, he did not trip over the last two that were almost completely in shambles. _For a private school, one would think they’d have the money to fix such a small fraction of the school._ He was too busy observing Felix’s movements, he missed his footing and landed chin down on the pavement.

The front doors burst open. _Oh great, another person to witness my graceful fall_. It was another boy, no younger than Felix. They were most likely in the same grade level, he assumed.

“Who’s the dude on the floor?” the unwanted witness asked Felix.

“He’s my…” He let the words trail off. _He’s my brother_. But he didn’t say it; it hurt to swallow the sentence because he knew Changbin wanted nothing to do with him or his dad, let alone be anchored by a title that did not belong to him.

Changbin picked himself up and dusted his new slacks. “It’s none of your business, blondie.”

Jisung was about to pounce, but before he could get his ass handed, Felix pushed him to the corner. “Chill out, let me speak with him first. He’s new around here. I don’t want him to wander off clueless.”

“Alright, but hurry before the first bell rings and Mr. Kang’s class becomes jam packed with mumbling idiots.” He slipped through the front doors leaving Changbin and Felix alone.

“Sorry about him, Jisung can be a bit…”

“Of a bitch,” Changbin bit back.

“Blunt…” Felix softly let out. “Whatever,” Changbin mumbled. They stood in silence for a while until Jisung’s comment from before processed in his head. Were they the only ones at school right now? He glanced around- dead silence, not even a single car passing by. “Why are there no other students around?” There was no need for the question; he knew the answer already.

Felix’s eyes snapped to the pavement in guilt, his head drooping low. “Because school doesn’t start for another hour?”

_WHAT!_

“You mean to tell me you dragged my ass out of bed at the crack of dawn for no reason?”

“I thought I’d show you around, maybe convince you to join our club.” His voice grew softer by each syllable he elicited.

“What club?”

“It’s a part of the science program the school offers, it’s just Jisung and I at the moment but we’re really trying to grow our number.”

Of course it would be something as lame as a science club. Why did he even bother asking and who would even want to join a science club? All those equations and rules or laws or whatever it was they were called were stupid; there was no use for them in the real world.

“I’m not interested in your club or your little friend. Just tell me where the library is.”

There it was again. That look in Felix’s eyes. But Changbin brushed it off. Felix stepped through the doors and pointed up the steps standing in the center of the main hallway.

“Up and down to your left.”

Changbin trutted off without saying another word. Felix was left standing in the middle of the hallway feeling cold and wondering why he was being pushed away.

*

“That’s him isn’t it? The kid your dad was going to adopt?” Jisung stopped mid scribble at the sound of the door, his slacks already covered in chalk.

“Yes,” Felix let out steadily. He didn’t want to talk about it, but Jisung was one step ahead of him.

“Dude’s got a massive stick up his ass, how do you deal with him? It’s only been the weekend right?”

Felix knew Jisung’s intentions weren’t vicious, but he couldn’t help but have it rub off on him the wrong way. “He doesn’t talk much.”

Jisung set the chalk down by the board and clapped the remnants of it from his hands. “He was pretty mouthy out front.”

He was, in fact it was the most he’d talked since arriving home. The only times he bothered to open his mouth was to throw cold remarks at him.

Jisung noticed Felix’s downcast stare; he hadn’t even set his backpack down or bothered to look at the board. It was balancing chemical equations- his favorite.

“Hey man, I know you’re trying.” He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “He’ll come around.” He shoved him towards the board, tapping the chalk he’d placed below him. “Brighten up, these equations won’t solve themselves.” A crack of a smile crept up on Felix’s lips. Jisung always knew how to cheer him up, if even for a moment. “I bet you can’t solve them in less than ten minutes,” Jisung challenged.

“Make it five.”

And so the race began.

*

The school corridors were long and stretched out for what seemed like miles to Changbin. When Felix said up and down to the left, he imagined a few seconds stride, but never this. Changbin’s stature wasn’t necessarily the highest, he was of average height for a boy his age, yet the ceiling was eons away. The chandeliers twinkled back at him as he followed them with every step. _They have enough money for fancy lights but not to fix the front steps?_ He let out a fraction of a scoff. _Typical._

An archway came up ahead with two double doors below. _That must be the library._ He pushed through. Instantly, a gush of wintery fresh air hit his face. It shocked him, but no less than the dozens upon dozens of bookcases littered about the open space. They were a bit disorderly, stacks yet to be put away and more resembling a miniature model of a labyrinth- he didn’t mind it at all. This was different from Felix’s slobberish messes. This was simply ordinary. The library back at the orphanage was nowhere near the grandosity of the one he currently situated himself in, but it was all the same cluttered- homey. He’d read every single book their small records had to offer and when he’d finished all those, he’d simply picked them up again and re read the wonders of the tales he’d already known. It was mostly a couple of classics and a few fantasy novels, but it was more than enough for him.

He set his bag down on one of the mahogany tables. As he walked through the empty slots of space, he couldn’t help but feel silly. His uniform, the rows of twisted dusty books- it was all too much for him. He felt separated from the world, as if he’d suddenly stepped foot into the infamous wizarding world. His fingers traced the spines of every book; the simple action was heaven found on earth.

“Can I interest you in anything specific?”

He spun, startled. The man before him smiled timidly with glasses that sat loosely at the tip of his nose- if he tilted inches lower they would slip off. He wore a gray silk vest with intricate floral detailing along with a white button up under, accompanied by a languid musky brown cardigan. Pretty miss matched, if you asked Changbin. But his bushy and chest length beard tied the look all together. _Yup, this man is in a drastic case of a fashion emergency._

“I was only looking around,” he shook his head.

The man circled around him with his finger quizzically on the tip of his chin. He eyed Changbin, squinting what little eyes he had left. “You’re new.”

_How did he know?_

The old man offered a knowing smile as if he had elegantly swept across the corridors of his thoughts. “I remember every face that steps foot through these doors. It’s unfortunate to say there are not many. Literature is not what you youngsters would call ‘a fun time.’ A shame really.”

Hearing him speak challenged him; it made him want to prove himself to this man he barely knew of. “I enjoy it.”

The man smiled, wickedly almost. “How refreshing.” He wobbled off to the right where a stack upon many rested. “Would you care for a recommendation?”

Changbin would admit, the man did put him off a little, but his curiosity was grander. “Please.”

He followed him down the rows of stacks, the man’s limp clearly evident. He held no cane, however, but his leg was encased in a metal bracket- clack, clacking away as they walked through the empty library.

“Here you go, our finest copy.”

_The Phantom of the Opera. This is new._ He’d never heard of it. The title intrigued him nonetheless.

He must have had a look of shock on his face because the old man stifled a laugh and lay the book upon Changbin’s hands. “It’s yours.”

_What? This book is probably worth more than my life._ “I can’t accept that offer, sir.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s not everyday a fine, young man takes interest in the magnificent scriptures of English literature. Have I said how quite pitiful that is?”

Changbin chuckled, he _chuckled_. He’d almost forgotten he could do that. “You have, sir and frankly I agree.”

“I’ll be seeing you around, eh?” he laughed. “Pleasure to meet you. I am the school’s librarian if you couldn’t already tell, but you can call me Tom.”

The bell rang through the empty space.

“Changbin,” he gave his name as he slung his bag on his shoulder. “Thank you.” He wagged the book firmly in his hand before sliding it into his bag.

“No need to thank, now hurry. You wouldn't want to be late on your first day would you?”

He nodded before slipping through the double doors. He quickened his pace in between the bodies of students. Subconsciously, he held his bag closer feeling the shape of the book now resting within his grasp; he breathed a little slower at the small comfort. _Maybe this won’t be so bad_.

*

Changbin sat in the far right corner of the classroom, shoulder plastered heavily against the glass. The teacher was nowhere in sight. _For a private school, I’d_ _believe they would hire teachers who actually cared to be present._ The students were vibrant with noise. Paper balls flew past him and across the room- an abundance of laughter wrapped with them. Changbin didn’t care much for interactions especially if it was with people like _him._ He was sitting at the teacher's desk, spinning around in their chair and laughing with his equally loud obnoxious friends. He stood and grabbed the chalk at the base of the board. Guys like him only drew one thing on school properties. Guys like him were airheads with a lack of motivation. Guys like him Changbin hated. As he watched him draw the only image an immature hormonal teenager could, he realized who the boy reminded him of. His bunkmate, back at the orphanage. The way he carried himself gave it away. He stood broad and proud, which to Changbin, he found hard to believe the boy would have anything to be proud of with that attitude. He high fived his friends as they admired his newer “masterpiece.” _Yeah, definitely an immature, arrogant asshole._

The teacher, a female who appeared awfully young, stepped foot into the classroom. She looked disheveled, her shirt untucked and wrinkly around the edges, her hair unkept and frizzy in a low ponytail with her glasses caught in the loose strands at the frame of her face. She heaved heavy breaths- it was clear by her demeanor she had bigger things going on than the dreadful job of babysitting a handful of blown up airheads. Changbin watched her every move as her gaze landed on the board before her. She bowed her head in an instant. Changbin couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion, the undeniable need to scream and cry or all three. He opted for all three. She was red in the face, visibly flustered, and she stomped to the board. She wiped the picture and dusted the eraser from the remnants of the chalk. He felt bad for her.

Everyone had their eyes trained on her, watching her every move. She fumbled with her briefcase and spilled the contents hazardly onto her desk some flying onto the floor below. The class laughed. He definitely felt bad for her, but he stayed put. He wanted to help, walk to the front of the class and show those morons what respect looked like, but he remained in his seat. Although, he sat straighter- alert. She spoke, her voice a mere drop against the troublesome waves sitting before her.

“Good morning, students. In the absence of professor Lee, I will be your English Literature teacher for the moment being.” Her voice shook uncomfortably like glass against the strong cry of the wind. She was new at this and it showed. She scrambled for the roster and read aloud, “The head director informed me of a new student.” She scanned the roster feverishly. “Changbin?”

_Shit_. He watched her grow frantic by the second as she scanned the crowd of snickers and judgemental eyes. He had to say something. Leaving her without answer would be too cruel so he exhaled and stood.

“Um… present?”

Her expression lightened, her lips curling in the smallest of smiles. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she did.

“Welcome, Changbin. I hope you adjust well in your new surroundings.” She gave a slight bow of the head. Changbin did the same. “You can have a seat.”

He did so, but not without thirty pairs of eyes tracing his steps. Crap. He was no longer invisible. It had been a while since he attended school. He knew well, standing wasn’t necessary but he panicked and rose to what now would be whispers about the new kid who stood for the daily attendance.

Class began and he resumed his position by the window. To others, it might have looked as if he weren’t paying attention, but he was. He listened to her every word. Her voice shook with diligence. Despite her appearance and nervous stature, when she spoke, she moved mountains in Changbin’s mind. All the resonance of her inexperience dissipated like dust. He was enamored.

_I guess this preppy school won’t suck… that much._

*

First period was over in the blink of an eye, much to Changbin’s dismay. While the others scribbled mindless doodles, he wrote as much as his hand allowed. He maintained eye contact with the teacher, nodded when he agreed with something, and answered all the questions she asked. Weird looks were thrown his way, but he didn’t care.

At the door, he paused. “First day?”

“Was I that bad?” she laughed but underneath Changbin could sense her worry.

“No, the opposite actually, you did great. Thank you for the wonderful lesson.”

She shook her head, “I should be thanking you. Without a student like yourself, my first time teaching would have been a bust.”

He offered her a smile and stifled a small laugh. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow's class.”

“Have a wonderful rest of your day, Changbin.”

He slithered past the door and into the busy hallway, suddenly feeling lighter. He looked at his schedule. His next class would be chemistry… _gross._

And he was back to square one, feeling like he had before coming to school. He was assigned a seat in the front row. Of all seats, it had to be the front row. He was not happy about that.

Halfway through the lesson, he wanted to doze off. Nothing on the board made sense and the teachers voice only seemed to morph into blank noise. The lesson felt to be dragged for hours, until the bell rang for nutrition. He made a beeline for the library knowing well he would turn in his homework tomorrow without a single right answer on the page.

Tom greeted him as he sat at one of the tables. Changbin read in silence for the fifteen minutes of nutrition. The bell rang, he sped off once more. The rest of the day seemed to blurr by with his remaining classes all jumbling into one big ball of _ughhh._ He had almost forgotten about Felix. He caught the familiar sandy blonde hair bouncing down the hallway along with another blonde mop of hair who he’d like to punch in the face. Felix and Jisung were busy gawking at something in their textbook when the dude from English class came up from behind and bumped into Felix’s shoulder. Purposefully. It irked Changbin. _So on top of being a_ _moron, he’s an asshole and a bully._

Their textbook dropped to the floor and so did Felix’s backpack. He laughed and acted like nothing happened as he strolled down the rest of the hallway. To the untrained eye, Felix’s reaction would have been seen as something short of unphased, but if you looked closely his eyes cast over shadows with his shoulders now slightly scrunched over and his quirky smile plainly laid in a flat line. Jisung on the other hand, a scowl of clear disdain graced his once joyful eyes. Yet the two boys kept at ease. Something told Changbin, this wasn’t the first time it’s happened.

There was no use fighting back, Felix thought. He was twice their size and yes he’ll admit it, the fact intimidated him- it scared him. Jisung on the other hand, had all the fire but no skill. Most days both found themselves pinned up against the lockers and on good days they’d have their books "accidentally" knocked out of their hands. Today was one of those days.

Changbin kept his eyes on Felix and the smart mouth he called friend. Why weren’t they doing anything? _Are they just gonna stand there and take it?_ And it was exactly what they did- remained undeniably stagnant with the stench of ‘loser’ plastered on their foreheads.

That night, Changbin stole side glances at the dinner table. Felix ate his food like normal, talked his head off like normal, and annoyed him just the same. Not once did he stumble when his dad asked him about his day. Something wasn’t clicking in Changbin’s head. _How could he sit there and act like nothing happened?_ _Like nothing was and has been happening?_

The week continued. And so did the bullying, only it was escalating as the days passed before them. The next day, Changbin found Felix stumbling into the lockers letting out an awfully loud smack. His shoulder would surely bruise.

Wednesday rolled around. Jisung’s textbooks were flipped out of his hands. Felix’s precious leather bound journal he kept so secretly stashed under his bed was taken from his grip mid scribble. Changbin cringed as he scrambled after it.

Thursday was no better. Infact, it got worse. Felix ended up with his freshly cleaned uniform stained with the sloppy joe he’d mistakenly chosen. If he knew it would've been one of those days, the turkey sandwich would have been his first choice. But he never knew. He was kept on his toes, nervous to walk down the halls at any given time during the school day. _Jisung’s with me_ , he’d tell himself everyday, _it’ll all be okay as long as I have my best friend._ And it was for the most part. Although they were picked on every day, having each other was enough to get through the day.

Until it wasn’t.

Friday came. Changbin thought it couldn’t get any worse, but he was wrong. Extremely. He was rounding the corner when he heard what sounded like a body shoved against the lockers. Two to be exact- Felix and Jisung.

Felix was pinned against his locker, an arm forcefully attached to his throat. His feet slightly grazed the floor, barely, if only by his tippy toes. The dude’s height gave him that much of an advantage. Felix’s bottom lip was swollen, the corner slightly plumper with a cut slit down the middle. To go with it, a purple bruise adorned the skin of his right cheek bone.

Changbin stood and watched, stemmed to the shiny polished tiles like the roots of an old tree. A certain feeling brewed beneath the surface. If it was him pinned against the locker, he’d fight back. Hell, that’s all he ever did back at the orphanage. It was easy- too easy- it came naturally like second nature. But Felix wasn’t Changbin and unlike him he had no affinity for fighting. So he laid slack against the locker, his eyes glued to Changbin’s.

Changbin found himself conflicted. Why did he care what happened to him? He was nothing to him. But the look in his eyes, it flickered before him shouting, _pleading_ to ‘keep quiet’ to ‘please not tell dad.’ With that look he knew. Felix would keep a tight lip and never punch back.

He stood watching a few seconds more. _Come on kid, do something._ But his limbs stayed perfectly stable beside him. Felix looked down. Changbin took that as his cue to leave.

*

Changbin arrived home earlier that afternoon. Surprised, he spotted their dad in the kitchen. Typically, he would arrive past six o’clock, early enough to cook the boys a quick dinner. But there he was, too busy bobbing his head to the beat of the drums and rupture of the electric guitar to notice Changbin slam the door behind him. He tiptoed across the living room and was halfway past the kitchen. He might be able to slip past unnoticed, he thought, but he wasn’t so lucky. He never was.

The music softened.

“How’d you like your first week?” their dad asked.

Aside from Chemistry, his classes were fairly simple. If only he could drop that god forsaken class. “It was okay.”

Their dad huffed in response expecting the short lipped response, but he wanted to get him talking. About anything. So he pried once more, “Made any friends yet?”

“Yes,” he muttered. It wasn’t technically a lie. He’d met Tom, the school librarian, and had spent all of week’s nutrition and lunch with him in the library.

But his one word answer was not enough for him. “Anyone special?”

Changbin’s cheeks flushed. _What the hell is he doing?_

Their dad rummaged around the fridge as he went on, “A girl, perhaps?”

_Oh god, he did not just ask that._ Changbin stood silently cringing at the “bonding” he believed was happening in the moment. Their dad faced him at the lack of response. Panic rose in his eyes at the sight of Changbin.

“Or boy! Or both, you know whoever you are, whatever you like, it’s okay.”

If he could, Changbin would melt into a puddle of slime and sludge his way to the bedroom. The second hand embarrassment crawled on his skin like a pesky insect. “Please stop talking.”

But he rambled on about inclusivity and how everyone should be loved regarding their sexuality or race. And although Changbin agreed, he just wanted it to stop. Out of embarrassment he took in a sharp breath and let out, “I’m straight!”

“That’s good to hear,” their dad hushed out. He jumped back again realizing how his words must have sounded. “Not that being gay is not good! It’s okay, completely okay and normal.”

“Can I go now?” Changbin muttered with a heavy sigh.

Deflated, their dad nodded. “I’ll call you when lunch is ready.” Changbin had no time to turn into the hallway when their dad suddenly remembered, _oh I have_ _another kid._ “Where’s Felix?”

Changbin debated for a while. _Should I say something? Why should I?_ And then... _he’s not my brother._ Felix’s busted lip and bruised cheek flashed in his memories. And his eyes. Those eyes begging for a vow of silence. He opted not to tell. Not for Felix’s sake, no never, he told himself. _I could care less about the_ _little prick._ It’s not my place to tell anyway. “He stayed back,” he half-lied, “with his friend.”

“Did he say what time he would arrive?”

By the looks of it, not any time soon. He shook his head in response. He locked himself in the room and set his textbooks on the couch. On top of hating chemistry class, he hated the textbook even more. It was heavy and thick filled with formulas and pictures he could hardly understand. _Seriously, who needs this_ _stuff?_ He scribbled aggressively across the page, trying, really trying to understand the problems in the textbook. But for the life of him, he just couldn't get it right. He flipped through the pages with urge. _There’s gotta be answers in here somewhere. Every textbook has those right?_ Apparently not all of them.

He grunted and crumpled up the paper in his hands. _This is bullshit._

The front door burst open slamming a little forcefully against the wall.

“Felix, what did I tell you about the door?” their dad called from the kitchen.

“Sorry dad!”

Changbin’s ears perked up at the sound of his voice. He was too stubborn to admit to himself he did wonder what had happened after he left. Was his face even more jacked up? He stepped out with a light foot to find out. He slithered across the hallway, plastered to the wall and feet tenderly grazing the floor. He attempted to peak his head around the corner but the space was too open to get away with it.

Their dad stepped foot into the living room, where Felix was sprawled across the couch. With his limbs outstretched, he resembled a starfish. A slight hue of pink and purple swirling his skin.

“What the hell happened?” their dad’s gruff voice resonated. Changbin knew he referred to his swollen broken lip and his busted cheek.

He expected a quivering tremble, a nervous stutter, a jumble of letters to stumble out of Felix’s lips, but they remained stable. “Jisung and I tried a new trick on our skateboards, but it didn’t go so well for me.”

“Son, you need to be more careful. Skateboarding, it’s dangerous if you’re reckless.”

“I’m okay, dad.”

“You sure? Let me clean that cut, it looks pretty bad.”

He moved to get a closer look at his son’s face but Felix moved away. “Really, dad, I’m okay. I’ll clean it up myself.”

He nodded understanding his son’s personal space. “Dinner will be ready in five.”

Felix offered his dad a short smile. He relaxed after he stepped back into the kitchen. He was drained, every muscle in his body pulled with a tension that could break him. Lying took a great deal out of him. He didn’t know how long he could keep up the act, but his dad could never find out what was happening at school. He would go livid. Frankly, he was afraid of what he would do if he found out his bullies address. Keeping quiet was the only solution.

Unless Changbin did something about it.

He let loose from the wall and rounded the corner. He stared Felix down, his eyebrows downcast and scrunched in a slight glare. It was his thinking face. He looked like a weirdo staring at him, but he just couldn’t place him. Why was he letting this go on? And why was he getting picked on? Sure he was scrawny, small, talked way too much for his own good, and liked science. _Like, who does that_? But he wasn’t a bad person. He honestly did not know why he would be pin-pointed like that. And more so why he took the punches.

“What?” Felix spoke below him. It was the first time, he visibly seemed annoyed with Changbin and not the other way around.

He scoffed. Felix had the nerve to act this way when he had saved his ass and not told his dad about the incident at school? _What an ungrateful little prick_.

“Boys, dinner’s ready.”

It was quiet at the dinner table. Only the sound of metal clashing against porcelain scratched at Changbin’s ears. Felix and their dad were busy shoveling food into their mouth to notice anything. Changbin sat still, his plate yet untouched. He appreciated dinner- steak and mash potatoes were great but green beans were gross. Changbin didn’t do greens. He didn’t do much of anything.

Felix noticed his full plate. _Is he not hungry?_ He didn’t want his dad to feel bad and think Changbin didn’t like his cooking. He was secretly sensitive about stuff like that. So he did what any caring supportive son would do. He shoveled Changbin’s untouched food into his mouth. Changbin snapped out of his daze wide eyed. _What the hell is this kid doing?_

He jabbed Felix with his fork under the table. Stop it, he mouthed at him. He shoveled even more into his mouth. With a full mouth he mouthed back, _you’re_ _welcome._

“Didn’t know you liked my cooking so much,” their dad told Changbin. “I must be one hell of a cook.”

Felix didn’t bother to swallow the chewed bits in his mouth before responding. “Yeah dad, it’s awesome.” He waved a thumbs up at him.

Funny enough, the rest of dinner went by painfully slow despite Felix's speed record eating. But soon enough the two boys found themselves in their room, quietly sitting in their respective sides. And for once, the silence irked Changbin.

“What’s his name?” Changbin bit the silence.

Felix’s pencil fell flat against his journal. He knew exactly who he was talking about yet uttered, “Who?” The sound strangled itself at the base of his throat.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Felix faced him shocked at his tone. He went on, “That moron who had you pinned against the locker, who is he?”

“Why do you care?” he let out softly.

It was not the answer Changbin was expecting, but he guessed he had it coming. He hadn’t been the nicest since stepping foot in the house. And although small, there was a part of him that didn’t want to see Felix pinned down defenseless. He was scrawny and had no skills up his sleeves. It was an unfair battle.

“Tell me his name.”

“Don’t bother,” Felix whispered.

Changbin thought back to the afternoon. He had to do something. Carefully he let out, “Why do you let yourself get beaten up?”

Felix thought for a second; he realized he couldn’t come up with an answer. He knew why he was picked on, but not why he let himself get picked on. Slowly he spoke, “I don’t really know.”

Silence. And then Felix spoke again. “His name’s Derrick.” Derrick.

_Yup, sounds like a douche._

“That’s a stupid name,” Changbin spit.

Felix chuckled, a small smile gracing his lips. Changbin’s lips were ghosted with a smile too. Not as prominent as Felixs’ but just as genuine. Changbin muttered, “Don’t be afraid to slap him around a bit.”

He turned around after, facing the back of the couch. Felix softened. Maybe this was the beginning. Maybe he’d finally started to melt the tip of the iceberg.

Changbin was troubled; he was known as the troubled messed up kid back at the orphanage. Which meant he knew how to pack a punch. Felix could use a lesson or two. And it was exactly what Changbin was going to do. He was going to teach Felix how to fight.


	5. Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Felix’s last class of the day was English and oh my god how he hated it. He wasn’t necessarily the worst; he knew how to slap words together to make them sound decent. Struggling wasn’t the problem, it was the boredom English class impeded on his science driven brain. It didn’t offer him the same excitement molecular transformations did. So when the bell rang indicating the commencement of the real fun, he jumped from his seat and headed down the hall to meet Jisung up for club.

A hand swung from the corner of the hallway and wrapped itself around the shoulder blade of his blazer. It was Changbin, walking incredibly fast towards the back entrance of the school.

“What are you doing? I have club with Jisung,” Felix huffed out. “He’s waiting for me.”

Changbin grunted. _Science club isn’t doing any good to you, kid. You can barely pack a good comeback let alone a punch._ He had spent all weekend preparing a training plan. Felix definitely needed to bulk up, get some meat onto his body and make it harder for stupid Derrick to throw him around like a rag doll. He needed strategy too, and that, Changbin had plenty of.

He searched online for gyms or boxing centers near them, but the closest was an hour away. He _was not_ about to spend an hour with Felix on public transportation. And it cost fifty to sign up with the additional forty-five a month. Changbin opted for the unused room in the back behind the school gym. He stumbled into it during lunch; it had enough supplies to begin with- a punching bag (dusty and a bit busted), a bench press and bar with sad twenty five pound weights hanging on either side, and a treadmill.

Changbin shoved Felix inside. “Your crummy club can wait.”

“Hey, it’s not crummy,” he let out softly.

“Whatever.”

Changbin set down his backpack and took out spare clothes for them to change into. He threw them at him. “Here, put these on.”

Confused, Felix caught them apprehensively. “Why’d you bring me here?”

Changbin ignored him. He undressed and dressed in record speed, folding his uniform neatly into his school bag. He signaled Felix to hand him his. And just the same, he folded his uniform and gingerly placed them on top of his own.

Changbin dug into a seperate compartment of his bag. “Why? Because you suck at fighting back.” He threw a pair of medical bandages to Felix. “Wrap these around your knuckles.”

“Hey, these are mine! You snuck into my trunk didn’t you?”

“I did. So what? You’re still going to be using them.” Changbin wrapped his knuckles quickly. “They were the closest thing I could find to gloves. Deal with it.”

Felix still stood with the bandages in his hands. He watched Changbin wrap them with such ease, he stuttered upon trying. _How did he do this so fast?_ Felix would wrap them around once, twice but they would unravel to the floor.

Changbin cringed as he watched the lost boy stumble with the material in his hand. He would need help. _A lot_ of help. _You’re not going to make this easy, kid_. He shuffled over to Felix.

“Stop, please stop. You’re hurting my eyes.” He ripped the bandage from Felix’s grasp. “Wrap twice around the knuckles and a little past them,” Changbin explained as he did it for him, “The excess goes around your thumb and down the lower half of your hand, grazing the wrist.”

Felix watched in fascination. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”

Changbin didn’t like talking about his past memories, as much as he dwelled on them. “Too many questions.”

“But I just asked one-”

Changbin silenced him with his glare. “I didn’t bring you here to talk.” He walked to the punch bag and slapped it. “I brought you here for this.”

Felix followed. He stood confused with his hands at his sides. No blocking. Wide stance. Easy target. “So what do I do?”

Changbin’s lips twitched into a small smile. He was going to have fun with him first. “Stay there. Don’t move.”

Felix chirped brightly. _He is too gullible_. Maybe this will teach him not to be. Changbin swung the punch bag back and let it drop. It swung heavily into Felix’s stomach, sending him flat on his back. Lucky for him, Changbin had set mats around them the week before.

“What the hell was that?” Felix shrieked. He clutched his stomach and coughed, a bit winded.

“Lesson number one,” Changbin blew in his direction.

“I don’t like this lesson,” he muttered quietly.

“Lesson number one,” Changbin repeated, “Be alert; know your surroundings. And for your own sake, kid, stop with the damn softness. Roughen up.”

“But I like me the way I am.” Felix’s eyes seemed as if they were on the brink of tears. The puppy dog eyed look was no help.

Changbin pointed it out. “That, stop doing that. Look, I’m not asking you to change your entire personality, but right now, you look scared. And that’s exactly what’s driving Derrick. You’re terrified of him; he feeds off of that.”

“I can’t help it,” Felix whispered.

“Yes, you can. I know it.”

Changbin spoke from experience. He used to be just like him- full of hope. Naive. When first arriving at the orphanage, the kids made fun of him, simply because he was new and easy to pick on. His bunkmate was a special nightmare. But eventually, he learned to survive he needed to lose his old self. Playing nice, he discovered, never got you anywhere. So he toughened up, taught everyone to be afraid of him. His bunkmate still liked to pick fights, but Changbin always won from that point forward.

“Copy me,” Changbin spoke. “Follow my gaze.”

He creased his brows in a dark, heavy set. His eyes crossed into fury. Felix observed. Heavily. But his eyebrows would only quirk upward.

Changbin, on the other hand, looked even more intimidating than he originally did. With his sleeveless tank, his muscles stood out. He was only slightly less scrawny than Felix, but his biceps made up for it.

Felix sighed in frustration; he couldn’t force it.

“We’ll work on it,” Changbin offered. “For now, let’s focus on you avoiding the punch bag.”

“What good is that-”

Changbin thought he’d ask a stupid question like that. So he swung the punch bag once more. Felix landed with a thud on to the mat.

“Point taken,” he grunted.

“You need to learn to avoid his punches,” Changbin pointed, “so you prevent this,” he tapped his own cheek referring to Felix’s bruised one, “from happening.”

“But how do I do that if he has me against the locker?”

Changbin waved his hands. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. We’re not there, yet.” He grabbed a hold of the punching bag. “Right now, worry about not getting hit.”

He let the bag fly. And so their training began.

*

Felix did okay for his first time. Sure the first couple tries Changbin let the bag swing in Felix’s direction, he flew down with it, but after a couple more swings, he was able to dodge it. He was kind of, sort of proud of him. Sort of. The real test would be tomorrow.

Felix didn’t mean to be nosy. But it was sitting right in front of him. Changbin’s bag was open. Peeking over his neatly pressed uniform was a crumpled up paper with a red capital D plastered in the corner. Naturally, his pull to help gave him away.

“If you need help, you can just ask me, you know?” Changbin scrunched his eyebrows clearly confused. “I know adjusting to a new school must be hard.”

Felix pointed at his bag. Changbin followed his gaze. He saw his paper and shoved it further into his bag. “What class?” Felix tried asking.

“It’s none of your business,” Changbin answered curtly.

He didn’t bother changing back into his uniform. He stood, swung his bag over his shoulder and started for the door.

Felix panicked. They were having a great time- well, he was getting punched in the stomach consecutively, but they were bonding. He didn’t want to ruin that moment. “Wait, I’m sorry.” Changbin froze. “I can help you. I get good grades. Except for English, my grades’ only okay, but I can still try if that’s where you need help.”

There was a long pause before Changbin spoke. “Chemistry,” he whispered. “I don’t get it, none of it.”

“Oh, that’s easy-”

“Yeah well, you’re a freak genius. No need to rub it in my face.”

“No, that’s not- I didn’t mean it like that,” he paused. “It’s my fault Derrick and his friends pick on me,” he confessed.

Changbin turned. “What?”

“Last year, we were in the same class,” Felix started, “Chemistry.” Changbin moved closer and sat next to him. “He was being a real jerk to Mr. Kang, I only wanted to help, so I made him look stupid infront of the whole class.”

“What did you do?”

“I gave him a test of his own medicine.”

_He shot back. Turns out the kid does have some fire._

“He didn’t like that, and so he dedicated his time to make my life a living hell,” Felix scoffed. “You know, I bring an extra set of clothes everyday just in case he decides it’s throw-his-lunch-in-his-face day?” He sucked in his breath, his voice slightly trembling. “It sucks.”

Changbin sat tensely. He didn’t know what to say or what to do. He sat quietly as he watched Felix’s eyes water, his sniffling resonating in the room. His hands kneaded into one another, his fingers now furiously digging into his palms.

Just as quickly, he bounced back. He took in a sharp breath and wiped the tears threatening to fall. “I have a proposition for you.” Changbin nodded. “As something in return for your help, I’ll tutor you in Chemistry.”

Changbin debated for a while. He needed to pick up his grade and there was no way in hell he would understand the subject by himself. He’d tried, but his papers always ended crumpled up in frustration. On a whim, he agreed. “Deal.”

_This was going to suck. Major ass._

*

“Where the hell were you yesterday?”

Jisung was pissed. Beyond pissed. Cheeks puffed out, eyebrows furrowed, Felix almost found him intimidating. Almost, but not quite. Jisung could never really stay angry with him. He’d tried, but evidently ended up forgetting about it by lunchtime.

“I tried calling you dude, ten times!” Jisung cried, miming with his hands.. “Is your phone broken or something?”

“Sorry, Ji. Changbin made me turn it off. Something about finding “the inner force” by silencing, and I quote “exterior temptations.” ”

Jisung lightened up. _Oh, maybe he’s decided to stop being such an asshat to Feli_ x **.**

“Didn’t take him for the spiritual kind,” he hushed. “What were you doing anyway?”

Felix lit up. “He’s training me.”

“For the olympics?”

Felix shook his head, “What? No.” His voice lowered as he continued. “To fight against Derrick.”

Jisung’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. _This man must have a death wish._

“You’re crazy.”

“No, no,” Felix countered. “He’s serious about teaching me how to defend myself, defend us.”

Jisung shook his head. “Dude, you’re mental. We both know we don’t stand a chance against Derrick and his buffoon friends. They may be stupid, but they’re like twice our size.”

“That’s just it,” Felix hopped with pep. “It doesn’t have to be that way. I can learn to fight back. For both of us.”

Felix puffed his chest out, his small fists secured on his waist. He looked ridiculous.

“Do you mind flying down from that cloud of yours, Superman?” Jisung snapped him out of it. His hand rested on Felix’s shoulder. “Look man, we’re weak. You know it, I know it. We’re nerds, like the epitome of the word nerd. And I could give a lesser shit about that. In fact, I love it!”

Felix stood in silent thought for a second. Yes, he agreed with Jisung. They were the biggest nerds, but he loved it just the same. So why should he feel less for loving something, or anything for that matter?

“Aren’t you tired of being picked on,” Felix sighed.

He was. He really was.

Jisung huffed out a labored breath, “Yeah.”

“Then let me help us,” Felix offered once again.

Jiusng observed the boy before him intently. He seemed… determined. There was no changing his mind.

“You’re my best friend, man. I don’t want you to get hurt so… kick ass at training, okay?”

Felix smiled brightly. “Deal.”

*

He did not kick ass at training that day. Infact, Changbin kicked his. Lesson one, he thought, was difficult. But lesson two was a hurdle he was not expecting.

“Where’d the punchbag go?” Felix stepped foot into the room already changed in his spare clothes.

Changbin sat at the bench finishing wrapping his knuckles. “Won’t need it today,” he said.

Felix’s eyebrows scrunched downward; he was confused. “But I was just getting the hang of it.”

Changbin stood, ignoring Felix’s whines. “Lesson two. Avoiding punches. You’re smaller than Derrick; use that to your advantage.”

Felix nodded, standing doe eyed, absorbing every little word falling through Changbin’s lips.

“How do I do that?”

“Practice, of course. That’s why we’re here.”

Felix raised his eyebrows. “But without the punchbag…”

His voice trailed off as Changbin drew closer. One step after the other, it was killing Felix as the realization sunk in. Changbin’s stance and nasty smirk were also a sudden indication.

He gulped. “You’re the punching bag, aren’t you?”

Changbin nodded, ready for the kill. “Sure am.”

He gave no time for Felix’s plees of mercy and swung for his nose. The younger boy ducked successfully, not because of great skill but because he was scared shitless of what Changbin was capable of doing to his nose.

“You’ve got fast reflexes, kid,” he let the praise fall from his lips before offering Felix a hand. “Now do it again, but this time try not to fall on your ass.”

Changbin wasted no time in swinging again, not even a second to let Felix catch his breath. _Kid could use the conditioning_.

“Dude, I wasn’t ready,” Felix remarked.

Changbin barred his knuckles together, the angry passion seething through the contact. “Think Derrick cares? You think Derrick will wait for you to lay one on him before he gets the chance to? It’s hunt or be hunted, kid.”

So this training thing was harder than he thought it would be. Maybe Jisung was right. There was no way in hell, he could ever go up against Derrick. Changbin was nowhere near Derrick’s stature and yet he couldn’t get past him.

Except, Changbin had something Derrick didn’t- fire, passion and skill. It was all about the skill. And that he could learn. He was sure of it. It was only a matter of time before he got it right, just like any molecular formula or chemical balancing- it took time.

He stood firmer, wider, less afraid. “Okay,” he muttered. “Okay,” he repeated this time, more sure of himself. “Hit me, but don’t tell me when.”

Changbin cracked his fingers, a mischievous tone lacing his words,“Wasn’t planning on it.”

He swung for his cheek (the bruised one specifically). And surprisingly enough, Felix was able to dodge it. He swung again. Felix dodged it. _I think I need to mix_ _it up a little bit._ Changbin aimed for his stomach. Felix lurched backward, but only in time for Changbin to connect his fist to Felix’s jaw. He stumbled and fell onto the mattress with a muffled groan exiting his lips. The last blow had hurt, and it hurt bad.

But he got up, a bit fuzzy in the head but ready to fight back. “Hit me again.”

Changbin complied and full throttled for Felix’s cheek, then the other cheek, followed by an uppercut to the jaw and with a final hit to the stomach once again. It was _a lot_ for Felix to take in all at once. He tumbled to the floor. Changbin huffed heavy breaths, looming over Felix’s beat down form. He thought he was going to give up, but he was wrong. Felix stood, a lucid glaze in his eyes. _This kid’s about to pass out._

“Again,” he slurred.

“I think that’s enough for today.”

“Do it again!”

Without thinking Changbin threw a final punch to his nose, only this time Felix didn’t move. He hit him square on. Felix fell to the ground for a fourth time that day except he didn’t stand up again. Changbin rushed to his side. His eyes were fluttering open slowly, in and out of consciousness. _What the hell was I thinking?_ Changbin slapped Felix’s cheeks lightly.

“I told you it was enough for today. Why don’t you listen to me?”

A lazy smile ripped through Felix’s lips. “Isn’t that what younger brothers are supposed to do,” he let out faintly.

There it was. Changbin’s ticking time bomb of a heart clocking away. Younger brother. He almost softened at the word, but he shook it off.

“Come on let's get you home.”

On the count of three, Changbin lifted Felix upright. A loud groan escaped his lips accompanied by the sudden hand to his nose. It was bleeding.

“I think you broke my nose.”

Looks like they were going to make a pit stop before heading home.

*

The trip to the hospital was longer than expected. By the time they arrived home, the sun had set.

Their dad came barging into the living room at the sound of the front door. “Where in the hell were you two?”

Their dad stood gravely centered in between the couch and the coffee table. All energy drew to him, fueling his anger further. And for the first time, Changbin felt… scared. _Ashamed._

“Don’t just stand there, you two. Answer me.”

Felix's tongue cruised for the saving while Changbin yet starved for a cohesive lie. “I was helping Changbin with tutoring. You see, he’s doing really bad like really bad in his chemistry class and-”

Changbin side eyed him with a subtle yet angered nudge to the ribs. A strangled noise gurgled in the back of Felix’s throat.

“I mean, we were walking home. After tutoring. And I fell, yeah, I fell pretty bad on the concrete. There was a lot of blood, yeah it was pretty bad,” Felix’s eyes danced between his dad’s shoes to the leg of the coffee table. “Anyway we- I mean Changbin took me to the hospital. Turns out it was just a gnarly sprain,” he pointed at his nose, a bandage pressed on. A deep purple bruise peeked over it.

Their dad threw lazer beams through his finger. It rested heavily upon Changbins gaze. "This is true?" he questioned.

Changbins hardened exterior molded into nothing, melting into a puddle of utterly petrified mush. He'd only ever felt this way before once. _Dad._ The first time he'd gotten in trouble-horrible for a five year old kid. He felt like he was dying, and after that day he swore he would do nothing to upset his dad. Because he loved him.

The insides of his mouth were drying up, the lack of slick to his tongue not helping in the slightest with his nervous gulping. Felix did him a better one than just a mere nudge to the ribs. He pinched him hard. With nails dug into his flesh and a fun twist to the skin of his wrist. It was enough to snap Changbin out of it. He jumped forward a whisper of a yelp forced through his lips. Their dad's eyes bore heavily into his, waiting, willing to accept a real answer or not. _You'll pay for this_ _later you little shit_. Changbin side eyed Felix and spoke. His voice quivered a bit, softer than the usual gruff hidden in his throat. "This is true."

Their dad trusted Changbin’s word although he'd gone out of his way to run away their first morning together. He wanted to believe him. So he did.

The boys were released. Changbin glared in Felix's direction the whole way down to their shared room.

"What the hell was that?" Changbin threw at Felix.

"I believe a thank you is the more appropriate term after I just saved your butt with dad. He'd totally freak if he knew you busted my nose,” Felix threw back at him. Changbin realized the lilt to his voice- it seemed to go higher when annoyed or angry. He bit back harder.

"Why? Because little miss princess can't be touched?"

"I am not-" Felix crossed his arms defensively, his hip jutted out slightly and his feet pointed to the left. He definitely looked the part.

"Whatever. What you did was low, telling him about my grade in chemistry. It's not cool,” Changbin huffed slouching onto the couch.

"It's just one grade."

Changbin scoffed. "For you it's just one grade! I suck at it, okay? For me that D sets me up for the whole year." He let the tension simmer in the air before sucking in his breath. His frame shrunk, if that was even possible, his eyes softening around the edges. "You don't get it."

"Try me,” Felix challenged.

Changbin sat up straighter- suddenly interested in the failures of the great almighty teen genius. "Okay Einstein what do you suck at?"

Felix listed, "English literature, reading, writing, anything that has to do with words really. I have a C in class."

_So he’s just average. At least he meets the standards._ Changbin puffed out the air through his nostrils. _I’m just a lower than average loser._ "Still better than a D."

"I got a D on a final mark once," Felix quipped through tight lips. The lie was more than obvious. But he didn’t want Changbin to feel less than what he truly was. He too was smart- in other aspects, like fighting.

"Yeah in your worst nightmares." Changbin stifled a laugh.

"You think of my failure as funny?”

“No. I just think you’re pulling a massive lie out of your ass.”

Shit he’d caught him. He had to make it more believable. “Really. It was sad, I cried..." His voice rose at the end. _Is he really asking himself?_

"You know, for someone who lies so much you kind of suck it."

Changbin’s words blew the light from Felix’s eyes. He spoke gingerly, "Dads’ kind of oblivious in that way."

There wasn’t much to say after, but Changbin knew what he had meant. Whatever Felix thought wasn’t true. Changbin had seen the smile on their dad’s face in the photograph out in the living room. It’d struck him awfully- a reminder of what he didn’t have. Not anymore. He’d seen the way he took care of Felix, the way he’d treat him with too many sweets for Changbin’s liking, the way he’d just… _look_ at him- like he was it. His whole world. He was there, with him, and he cared. It was clearer than water.

Changbin couldn't offer him much. He only smiled in the softest tone, but wholeheartedly just the same. “Night,” he whispered. Before he faced the couch, he threw in, “And turn off your stupid night light. It hurts my eyes.”

He couldn’t let his guard completely down. It was still safer inside, but he would be lying to himself if he denied the soft spot growing in the pit of his heart.


	6. K.O

Their daily training continued along with weekly tutoring sessions at the library and occasionally-with the constant annoying plees from Felix- they held tutoring in science club. Today was one of those days. Midterms started in two hours and Changbin was a nervous wreck.

“Come on man, you know this,” Jisung smacked the ruler under the formula.

“You’re unnecessary need to smack the chalkboard harder each time isn’t helping,” Changbin seethed.

Jisung and Changbin’s relationship was… different. They hated each other the first time they spoke. They hated each other the second time. Felix managed to find a common interest between them- him. Without him they’d rip each other to pieces. But there were rare moments where they’d high five, maybe even bro fist after Changbin figured out a problem. Felix wished those moments would last a little longer before they’d find anything to crawl on each other’s back.

Changbin erased his paper again and resolved the formula. He gave his answer.

“That’s incorrect. Dude, come on, look at the problem.” Jisung waved the ruler in the air.

“I am! Nothing’s clicking.”

“Your midterm is in two hours! Two hours,” Jisung enunciated.

“I’m not blind, you idiot. I can see the clock.” Changbin threw his pencil on his desk in frustration, his hair already standing in all directions from the countless times Jisung had pushed his luck a little too far. “I don’t get this! It’s all just weird symbols and letters and numbers. I’m going to fail.”

“No you’re not. Do it again,” Jisung smashed the tip of the ruler against the chalk board for the nth time that morning.

Felix sat two seats away from Changbin, silently observing the whole ordeal. He’d wanted to step in, but he feared it would take away from Changbin’s last minute reviews. Changbin glanced his way, a cry for help in his pupils.

“You’re growing impatient again, Ji,” Felix chimed in.

Jisung ruffled the hair at the nape of his neck. His shoulders relaxed like a puppets’ without its master. “Right,” he muttered softly under his breath. “Sorry.”

Felix cut in before anything could escalate again. “Bin, don’t think of it as a formula.”

Jisung’s ears perked up at the sudden nickname.

“But that’s what it is,” Changbin retorted.

Felix shook his head and stood from the desk. He walked to the board. “Think of it as one of our training lessons. Look at the formula and ask yourself ‘how can I solve this through fighting tactics?’ or terminology,” he added.

Changbin softly nodded. Suddenly, his pencil flew with ease across the paper. He pieced it together, part by part- punch by punch. The answer stumbled through his lips, the air in his chest tight from anticipation.

“Dude, I’m sorry, but you’re failing,” Jisung peeped.

Changbin’s heart sank to his ass, the color draining and leaking from his body. _I tried, I really did._

Felix took the ruler from Jisung’s hand and smacked him upside the head, wiping the devilish grin plastered across his face.

“Don’t scare him.”

“Sorry, again. I was joking, man. You got it right.”

Changbin felt at ease. _Guess studying really does pay off._ He couldn’t have done it without Felix and although it hurt him to admit it, Jisung was a big help too. He might just pass his midterm.

The bell rang for first period- English for Changbin and Calculus for the teen prodigies. Felix rushed off first. “You’ve got this,” he offered Changbin a thumbs up.

Jisung followed, but he stopped by the door. “Bin? Really? Can I call you that?”

_No way in hell._ Changbin glared at him.

Jisung lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, I get it. Just a brother thing,” he shot ridiculous finger guns at him, “Good luck, man.”

_Brother._ The word didn’t seem so horrible, he realized. There was no time to ponder over it as he rushed to his first class, praying to whatever higher power he’d pass his chemistry midterm.

*

“So, how was it?” Felix asked the instant he met Changbin for their last training session.

Changbin threw bandages towards Felix. He’d caught on pretty quick on how to wrap them after the first week. He wrapped his hands in a heartbeat and sat hopelessly next to Changbin on the bench. He didn’t say a word as he wrapped the bandage around slowly, the anticipation killing Felix.

Changbin dug into his backpack and slid a folder across the bench towards him. “See for yourself.”

That tone. Felix didn’t like that tone. _Did he really fail_? His fingers ripped through the folder. The paper below confused him. “You passed?” It didn’t register in his brain until he met Changbin’s wide grin. He’d never seen him smile so big; it made him wish he’d seen it sooner. It suited him.

“I passed, Lix. I got a B! How awesome is that?”

_Lix. He called me Lix. He’s never done that._ Felix drew a blank.

“What did you call me?” he swallowed thickly.

“Lix?”

“Right,” he blew; he sounded disheveled.

“Is there something wrong? You don’t sound okay.”

He shook his head. “I’m good. Everything's… good.” There was hope, Felix thought, a spark to blaze into fire.

“Thank you,” Changbin placed the folder back in his backpack, “Really, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Felix smiled brightly because he had definitely just called him Lix, no second guessing, no backing out- seriously. “I’m always here for you.”

Changbin nodded briefly deciding to ignore his screaming heart, leading Felix to the center of the room where the mats lay. “Come on, today’s the last day. Let’s make it count.”

Felix stood in front of Changbin, first position stance ready.

“You’re an inside fighter,” Changbin reminded him. “Stay close and…”

“Overwhelm the opponent with an intensity of uppercuts and hooks,” Felix finished.

“Since our opponent is bigger we aim….” Changbin swiftly moved around the mat drawing Felix closer, preparing him for their final smackdown.

“Below the belt line.” Felix followed Changbin’s every step. “Including the thighs, legs, and groin.” Changbin coaxed him to continue. “Similar to a low blow which includes hitting the stomach and groin as well.”

“And a Breadbasket?”

“The stomach. Hitting the stomach drains the opponents stamina and mobility at a quicker rate.”

“And if all else fails?” Changbin asked finally.

“Become a Brawler. Dodge rather than punch.”

_He’s got it_. Changbin threw the first punch. Felix deflected it with rapid ease. His natural reflexes were an advantage, but with Changbin’s skills combined, he’d become unstoppable. Changbin dove for his nose conjoined with a punch straight to the jaw. He dodged both. Changbin’s smile grew as their spar drew longer. Felix was aiming correctly and dodging the punches Changbin threw his way; he even managed to throw him off guard a couple times. Derrick wouldn’t know what hit him.

“You’re ready,” Changbin slapped Felix’s shoulder as a confirmation. He let out a laugh and what Changbin assumed to be a sad excuse for a victory dance. “Alright, settle down, time to go.”

*

The sun had begun to set as the two arrived home, just in time for dinner. The air wafted with the scent of Changbin’s favorite- chili. Felix’s mouth watered just like it did for anything resembling food.

They stumbled in, ate their designated serving- Felix a little extra- and hopped in line to wash their plates.

“Felix, do you mind putting in the laundry for me?” Their dad practically shoved him down the hallway. “Changbin can wash your dish.”

_Can he be any more obvious?_

Changbin turned on the faucet washing the chunks of leftover beans and beef from the bowls. “You don’t have to send Lix away every time, you know?”

Their dad exhaled, a mixture of a grunt and sigh in his throat. He’d been caught in the lie. Stunned, he shifted the balance of his feet, switching between crossing his arms or scratching at his tattoos- a habit Changbin noticed as the season changed.

“You’re not very subtle,” Changbin spoke as if reading his mind.

He scrambled for words, a few more scratchy grunts slipping through his lips before he realized something. “Lix?” His voice rose with a smile at the nickname.

_Crap_. Changbin’s grip faltered. The bowl slipped past his fingers into the sink. Luckily, nothing broke. He picked the bowl up scraping at it with a firm force, keeping quiet to avoid the conversation he’d unintentionally spurred on.

“After school tutoring really brought you two together, didn’t it?” The smile evident in his question. _My two boys, finally._ He’d observed the tension at home the first few nights, the reaching and the pulling, one end to another.

“It’s just tutoring,” Changbin scraped out. _Stupid, Bin. Why’d you let that slip?_

Their dad stepped closer and turned off the faucet. “You think I’m stupid?”

Changbin panicked; he moved to turn the faucet back on but it was firmly blocked from reach. _Shit, shit, shit. How did he find out?_

“I know you two go off elsewhere.” Changbin’s heart seized to pound. He was about to owe Felix the biggest of apologies. But then, “You’re teenagers, probably going to the arcade to have fun.” Hearing those words were like a sigh of relief; his heart resumed its natural rhythm.

“You caught us,” Changbin nervously laughed.

He stood in awkward silence as their dad aggressively smiled at him.

“Admit it,” he spoke.

Okay, now he was confused. He waited for more, but got nothing.

And after a split second, “You like having him around,” the words gingerly lifted from his lips.

The words shot through Changbin’s body. And a sudden realization struck him as the faucet started running again: he did like having him around. More than he liked to show, more than he knew.

Felix’s heavy footsteps rounded the corner. His clothes were drenched in sods of soap clinging to his body and hair. “Dad? I think the washing machine is broken.”

Yup, he liked having him around. Especially to see things like that happen.

*

Rotten luck is what he had. Changbin huffed, throwing off the covers off his bed- they’d bought it a month ago. With Felix’s crap laying around -despite the countless times Changbin scolded him for the disgusting pile of boxers laying around- it was a tight fit. The couch had been thrown out and Felix’s desk had been pushed to the extra space beyond his bed. Now Changbin’s headboard rested against the wall where the desk used to be. Half of the closet was given to him which forced Felix to throw away all the unnecessary junk hidden under piles of clothes. And although a deep cleaning went underways, Felix could never keep his half of the closet neat for more than two days.

Changbin fumbled with the closet door sliding it open with sleep induced force. What rotten luck he had. It was pouring outside as it had been all night. He cringed as he forced his hand to the back of the closet. The pink pastel stood out in the dark room, the cheap vinyl material crinkling beneath his fingers. There it was in all of its pink monstrosity. Oh, he was so going to hate today.

He threw it onto the bed and fished out his uniform, safely encased in a suit garment cover. It was the only way to prevent wrinkles. To Felix, the cover was a bit of a stretch. ‘You’re gonna wear it anyway, it’ll get wrinkled with your body movements,’ he’d say. _Ameatur._

Changbin sat it neatly onto the bed. The clock read 5:30. He’d have to wake Felix up soon if he wanted to arrive to science club on time. Jisung would surely appreciate it, in turn keeping him off his ass. He stumbled into his uniform quickly, swallowing the embarrassment as he slipped on the pastel pink raincoat.

He flicked the light on, “Wake up.” Felix hunched under the blanket. Changbin threw a pillow. “Get up.” He threw a second pillow.

“Alright, I’m up,” Felix grumbled. His eyes scanned the room, adjusting to the blinding light. He stopped at the sight before him. “Dude,” he choked out, his voice still laced with sleep. “What are you wearing?”

Changbin grunted. “Shut up and get dressed. We’re going to be late.”

Felix chuckled softly as he stumbled to the closet. He stopped and turned to look him over again. “You are so gonna get it from Jisung today.”

“I’ll wait for you in the living room,” Changbin grumbled annoyed.

And Felix was right. So right. Jisung went ballistic upon seeing the gleaming ray of pink walking up the front steps. It was glorious- not so much for Changbin, but man did Jisung need that laugh.

Changbin sat in the corner for the rest of club reading his book, attempting to ignore the countless comments falling from Jisung’s big mouth.

*

It had been weeks since Derrick had picked a fight with Felix. The thought unnerved him, sacred him actually, but he was prepared. The training sessions had given him confidence and a smaller chance to stand up for himself.

Felix rushed to his locker; he was going to meet up Changbin at his. It was closer to the front entrance, so it worked out for both of them. He stuffed his textbooks inside having finished the weekend’s homework before the last bell; it was a superpower of his and Jisung, of course. English was their last course of the day, unfortunately in seperate classrooms. So, they did their homework instead and checked each other’s answers before school let out.

“Where are you off to so quickly?”

Felix froze; he knew that voice anywhere. It was Derrick and his friends. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t speak. Felix feared him. More than anything. Derrick abused that power. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

Felix’s shoulder shot the side of his locker, closing it with a sharp bang. The sound was that of a shotgun in his ears. He turned around slowly, his knuckles white from gripping the strap of his school bag. Derrick grinned from ear to ear, clearly enjoying the show. “Miss me?”

Felix wanted to open his mouth, to say something and not seem so _weak_.

“Cat got your tongue?” Derrick pricked on.

He shut his eyes, exhaling and inhaling, _you’re stronger than him. Remember what Changbin taught you._ Felix backed away from his locker dropping his school bag on the ground as he stepped closer. Derrick's eyebrows furrowed.

_Be brave, Lix, be brave_. Fists up he scooted closer, the twist to Derrick's smile slipping into a playful grin.

"He wants to fight," he howled to his friends. "The _loser_ wants to fight." He cocked his head to the side bringing, fists up. "Let's see what you got."

Just as Chnagbin predicted Derrick wasted no time in throwing the first punch. With a mixture of well measured fear and months learned skills, Felix ducked. Derricks fist connected with the locker. He didn't like that. His friends, shocked, let out a gasp.

"You're dead, Lee," Derrick growled in his ear.

He threw another punch, but Felix dodged it swiftly pressing past him. Derricks' friends watched in awe as Felix pushed away another one of his hits landing a swing to Derrick’s gut and jaw. He stumbled and held his mouth open in pain. Felix was a dead man. There was no way in hell Derrick would lose against someone like him. He lunged for the kill. Felix waited for yet another failed punch to the face, but nothing came. No, he was falling.

Derrick cut his feet from under him with a harsh kick to his ankles. This was not included in the training lessons. The cold tiles pinned against his back, the blow radiating through his chest and lungs; the air clogged in the back of his throat. He breathed in halved hiccups as he tried to focus his eyes on the ceiling above. All he felt was cold.

Derrick’s breath drew closer to his face. “I always win,” he tore through gritted teeth.

The kicks came one after the other- to his stomach, ribs, thighs and the sides of his chest. Felix couldn’t move, couldn’t feel anything but the pain and the numbness all the same. All he could think about was Changbin. The training, it had been a waste, and he’d been a fool to believe any amount of skill could succumb the power Derrick held. Felix felt inexplicably small and powerless- a weakly lamb in the teeth of the wolf. _I’m sorry, Bin._ Derrick threw a final hit to Felix’s temple. And everything went black.

*

Changbin leaned against his locker, his foot impatiently tapping against the ground. _Where the hell is he?_ He trotted towards the end of the hall, ready to rip Jisung in half (he was sure it was him keeping Felix.) _I swear_ \- but as he walked further and turned the corner, Jisung wasn’t the problem.

_Fucking Derrick._

He loomed over him, fists connecting with skin in heat. _Come on, kid._ But Felix wasn’t moving. Something was wrong. Then he looked down; Felix’s left eye was painfully screwed shut, his cheeks heavily bruised, lips swollen red and his nose bloodied and most definitely broken.

“Get the hell away from him!” Changbin stormed through.

Derrick and his friends whipped their heads in his direction. They snickered, laughing at him because who was he to have the audacity to raise his voice at them?

“I said get the hell away from him!” Changbin shoved Derrick to the ground.

Derrick retaliated quickly, his fist closing in on the collar of his raincoat. “What are you, his little fairy godmother?”

“What are you, an insecure asshole,” Changbin spit back. “Is that why you pick on him, because you’re envious and you secretly wish you had half his wit and intelligence? He’s better than you and you hate yourself for that. He has friends that care about him, that stick around for more than just a dumb popularity status. He has everything you don’t and you want it. You think punching it out of him will make him less of what he is and more of what you are- lost, alone, and pathetic.”

Derrick visibly shook, his veins bulging from his neck and his eyes urging to let the tears out from years of pent up emotion. Changbin was in his head; he'd hit it spot on. Derrick's grip loosened for a fraction of a second. It's all Changbin needed to hit his chest, a grunt forcing its way out from the lack of air. He fell to the ground. Changbin slapped his foot slack on his chest. He inched his body closer to Derrick’s as much as his knees allowed him. With fire in his words he whispered, “Stay the _hell_ away from my brother.”

Changbin’s shoes squeaked across the floor as he rushed to Felix’s unconscious body. He looked worse up close. There was no way in hell they could hide this from their dad. “Lix, come on,” he shook his shoulder lightly, “We have to get you home.”

Felix mumbled something under his breath, but it was all woven together Changbin couldn’t make out anything. He lifted him by the shoulders, Felix’s body weight leaning into Changbin’s side. He dragged him across the hallway- it was not easy- but he dragged him across and through the front entrance. It was going to be a mission getting him down the rickety steps. “I’m gonna need your help here, kid. Step down slowly, can you do that for me?”

More incoherent mumbling. Felix’s feet dragged across the steps, fumbling every second or so. It was not easy, but they stumbled upon the last step onto steady ground. Felix’s head hung low, his body drained of all its energy. _How the hell am I going to get him home?_ He had to be fully conscious; it would be impossible to make it home or anywhere for that matter. Changbin was only so strong and carrying the dead weight of a teenage boy would not help either one of them.

Changbin sat Felix down; he dug around in his backpack. A bottle of water and some left over goldfish were thrown at Felix’s lap. Changbin lifted the water to his lips; Felix chugged it with an intensity. The goldfish, he slapped out of arm's reach. “You have to eat,” Changbin prompted him. “You need the energy, kid. Take one.” He shoved a goldfish under his mouth, but he pushed his head away. Changbin felt ridiculous- like a father forcing his child to eat. “Just take one, Lix.”

Felix huffed a couple breaths, forcing the energy to speak. He mumbled the words, “Can’t.Throw up.” Changbin poked at the urge to scoot away because _hell no,_ _he is not going_ _to barf all over my shoulder_. But he sat still, his support being the only thing keeping Felix upright. A second later, Felix lifted himself off Changbin’s shoulder, his hand clutching his stomach. He grew paler, if that were even possible.

Changbin cringed; he knew what was coming.

Felix let out the most disgusting sound, Changbin thought, he’d ever heard. His barf sat in a massive puddle on the street, slithering dangerously close to Changbin’s sneakers. He chucked his feet up, knees scrunched to his chest. “Better?” he asked, even though Felix looked and smelled like a flaming pile of shit.

Felix clutched his sides and winced. “No.”

The pain was dizzying, worse than it had ever been. How was he going to hide it from his dad this time?

Changbin cleared his throat, “You have to tell him.” As if reading his mind, Felix turned to look at him in shock. “I will, if you don’t.”

He couldn’t. He _wouldn’t_.

“He can’t know,” Felix whispered, his voice low and hoarse.

“Look at yourself, you’re seriously hurt.”

“Please, don’t,” he mustered all he could to let the words reflect the sincerity and need.

Changbin would not take no for an answer. “He could have killed you!” Not this time. Not when it was this serious. “You were unconscious when I found you,” he let out, his voice uneven.

Felix understood Changbin’s concern, he respected it, it made him feel safe. But the answer was always going to be no. “I am begging you.” He had to listen, he had to. Without Changbin’s oath of silence, he could and would not step foot at home.

Changbin’s eyes fell once again on Felix’s busted face. His screwed shut eye was now turning a shade of purple and the other held a tinge of red underlying the iris. He huffed in frustration. How were they going to hide the blood and the bruises? It was useless. Changbin looked into his beat eyes- they were tired and vulnerable. Defeated. And he knew it had to be Felix’s way. For now. The weight of it all would be too much for him to carry.

Changbin would tell their dad eventually, but for now he’d help Felix carry the weight. He pulled Felix upright. “I’ll kill you, if you barf on my shoulder.”

“I cannot promise anything,” he muttered weakly, the smell of puke lingering in every breath.

This was going to be one hell of a walk home.

*

“What’s the plan?” Changbin wondered as they stepped foot in their driveway.

“Just agree with whatever I say,” Felix responded.

“You can barely stand on your own.”

Felix’s balance stumbled as if on cue. “Just… trust me.”

The keys jingled in the slot. _One, two, three_ …. Nothing. No angry scowl, no intimidating eyes, just an empty house.

“He’s not here,” Changbin’s tone flattened out from a question to a breath of relief.

“Must have been held back at the shop, it happens rarely. I guess today was one of those days,” Felix sighed, obviously winded. “Lucky us.”

“Yeah, lucky us,” Changbin exhaled with slight remorse.

He did feel guilty for helping Felix, for keeping something as important as this from their dad. This feeling, it settled. It added yet another weight to his shoulders.

Felix’s feet drifted heavily against the tiles, his breath caught between each step and his complexion drained paler than it had shown to be back at school. Changbin had encouraged him to push through the walk home, coaxing him to lift his head to keep from anymore bloodloss. It was too much for him; he was incredibly tired and Changbin’s voice, although helpful and for the first time, wrapped gently, it had begun to make his head spin. He was sure to throw up again if he did not sit down on the couch the second they stepped into the living room.

“I need to sit down,” Felix blew lightly.

Changbin persisted. “The room’s just seconds away, you’ll be more comfortable there.”

Felix’s grip tightened on Changbin’s shoulder, a silent plea to _please, just please listen_. He shook his head slowly, in fragments, the bile scratching the back of his throat. “Here.”

His voice sounded like glass- fragile and easily ruptured with one swift, accidental bump. Changbin complied because _holy hell, he looks like he’s seconds away_ _from clocking out._ Felix plopped onto the couch, the sheer contact of the bouncy mattress irritating his damaged ribs and stomach. He yanked at his shirt gently, his fingers knotting into it with force. While the sudden urge to throw up reduced, the pain was a soon replacement. Changbin’s brow furrowed, a bend to the knee already crouching to Felix’s side. Maybe this was much more serious than he thought.

His hand moved to lift Felix’s shirt, but Felix held on tighter. “Lix, let me see.”

He shook his head.

Changbin was growing impatient. “This is no time to be stubborn, Felix. _Let me see_.” He hoped the additional glare and tight scowl coaxed him to listen.

Instead he responded with, “Move, room.” A full sentence was like knives sticking into his abdomen- keeping conversation at a minimum masked the pain. He extended his hand for Changbin to take.

They moved slowly- walking through their small hallway seemed to stretch miles for Felix. Every step sent a sharp pain to his ribs. But they finally made it. Changbin set Felix down gently onto his bed.

“You have to let me help you,” Changbin repeated.

Felix had no fight left in him; he was too weak to even lift his hands. All he wanted to do now, was sleep. Maybe it’d wear down the pain of the day. He closed his eyes and slipped a mere okay through his chapped lips.

Seeing the now exposed skin, was nothing compared to the condition of his face. Splotches of red, blue and purple covered his lower abdomen, but the worst were his sides. The discoloration was like nothing Changbin had ever experienced on himself or seen on others. Felix’s ribs were a deep plum. Not a good sign.

“You need medical attention, kid. This is bad, worse than bad.”

Felix leaped up the fastest his injuries allowed him; he grunted at the sudden stabbing sensation, but he pushed through and grumbled through a gritted smile. “No doctor. Only me.” He gestured under his breath.

“Your trunk?” Changbin questioned.

Felix nodded sharply, a glass like film washing over his eyes. _He’s holding it in, the tears._

“Open it,” Felix struggled with his words, “the bandages and belt. And the pomade.”

Changbin thought it was a stupid idea, but he placed the items on the bed anyway. He opened the jar with the pomade, remembering the first time Felix had helped him and the almost instant relief the mixture offered.

“How much?” Changbin lifted the jar so he could see.

Felix peeked over with half lidded eyes. “All of it,” he blew threw jagged breaths.

Changbin smeared the pomade on his lower abdomen, his muscles contracting every time he’d pressed too hard. He hesitated as he reached his battered ribs. “Gentle,” Felix reminded him.

Changbin exhaled a breath. The last remnants of the pomade covered his hands, gingerly peering a landing on his ribs. Once his fingers touched skin, Changbin shakily massaged the mixture onto his skin. Felix winced the whole way through, even the slightest touch wouldn’t impede the knives digging into his sides.

“The bandages… how?” Changbin was clearly inexperienced.

“Slip under,” Felix muttered. “Wrap all,” he clarified.

The action saddened Changbin. Felix was covered from top to bottom, the entirety of his torso wrapped in a corset of bandages. He looked completely immoble; it wasn’t far from the truth. “The belt,” he continued, “around ribs, tight.”

Changbin shook his head. “It’s going to hurt more.”

Felix brought the belt closer to himself. “Trust,” he cascaded through a broken breath. Changbin had no other option than to listen to Felix’s directions; he was, afterall, the expert. Felix squeezed his eyes shut at the tug of the belt, his nose tickled with oncoming tears as it tightened his ribs further. It felt like they were being sewed forcefully back in place, but he knew he’d have to endure the more than uncomfortable sensation for the whole night and the majority of the next two days. His acting skills would have to pull through the next forty-eight hours.

“It hurts,” Changbin observed.

“A little.”

“Don’t pretend with me.”

Felix let a long breath release from the pain. “Hurts, a lot,” he mumbled. “But, it will fade,” he forced out.

Changbin scooted to the edge of Felix’s bed, giving him more room to be comfortable. No one spoke for the next few minutes. The room sat eerily quiet, the wind outside seeming to accompany them in their moment of silence. There was not much Changbin could do, but sit with him and not let him wallow in his own head.

A choked sniffle ruptured the air. Felix’s head sat facing away from Changbin, evidently trying to hide his emotions, but Changbin caught the single tear slipping out from the corner of his eye. _Crying sucks. It only makes you feel worse._ He wouldn’t wish that feeling on his worst enemy.

Changbin nudged Felix’s foot. He didn’t react, but Changbin talked anyway. “ _Def Leppard_ ,” he cleared his throat, “you asked me once what my favorite rock band was, it’s _Def Leppard_.”

Felix didn’t stir in excitement as Changbin anticipated, but he was listening- he remembered that day.

Changbin stood from the bed and dug under his, scoping for the box he kept his records in. “I bought the record a few weeks ago at a record store nearby.” He took the record player out of the closet. “I’ll take you someday,” he exhaled without hesitation.

He’d meant it. Changbin thought of that place as his, months ago, before everything happened, but now… now he was ready.

He let the record spin and the first song poured out- his favorite. _Photograph._ The song itself was about wanting someone badly. Changbin could definitely _not_ relate. He didn’t know the first thing about love, if that was what love was.

“They're definitely cooler than _Guns N’ Roses_ ,” Changbin teased hoping his comment would stir Felix up a bit, but he sat still. He tapped his legs, “What’s your favorite song of theirs?”

“ _Sweet Child O’ Mine_ ,” Felix mumbled. His cheek was pressed against the pillow, his response muffled.

“That’s a good song, but I’ve got one better. _Def Leppard’s_ , _Pour Some Sugar on Me._ ”

Felix shifted his head, ready to annihilate Changbin’s poor choice in music.“That’s totally lame,” he labored, a chuckle laced underneath.

Changbin’s side smile slipped out, his teeth barely peeking through. He stifled a laugh. “It’s a classic.”

“ _Journey’s, Don’t Stop Believing,_ ” Felix continued the little game they’d unintentionally began.

“That’s _totally_ lame.”

The boys snickered, but played along. It was Changbin’s turn. “ _Def Leppard’s, Too Late for Love_. Shoot,” Changbin finger gunned him.

“ _Guns N’ Roses’, Paradise City._ ” Felix slowly sat up, landing his back against his pillows with a slight grunt. “Bet you can’t name better.”

_“Def Leppard’s, Animal._ Bring it on.”

“ _Journey’s, Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’_.”

The pain was still very much present in Felix’s ribs and abdomen, but this was helping. He felt taken care of and surprisingly Changbin _enjoyed_ taking care of him. He truly felt like a big brother.

“Didn’t take the science loving nerd as the raunchy type,” Changbin teased. “ _Kings of Leon’s, Wait for Me_.”

“Didn’t know you listened to more than one artist,” Felix bit back with a smile. “ _Guns N’ Roses’, Catcher In The Rye_.”

“Not bad, kid.” He slapped his leg. “Good song. Good book, actually,” he added.

Felix scrunched his face at Changbin. No way in hell, someone actually enjoyed reading that book. “It was _blegh_.” Felix emphasized shoving a finger down his throat. “It’s the only book I’ve read.”

It couldn’t be, Changbin thought. There were so many great books out there, it just couldn’t be possible. “Ever?”

“Ever,” Felix finalized. “I’ve never actually read a book for a report after _Catcher In The Rye._ ” He watched as Changbin’s face set into faint horror.

“How did you pull it off?” Changbin asked, genuinely concerned.

“With the magic of the internet and a smack ton of praying my teacher wouldn’t see through my bullshit.”

Changbin let out a laugh, a big hearty laugh. What came next must have been a heat of the moment kind of thing, because the words came naturally. Unfiltered. Completely and utterly him- a full transparency. “Books were my best friend back at the orphanage,” he was still laughing, but he slowly sank to the harsh reality of his memories, “my _only_ friend.”

Felix quickly saw the shift in Changbin’s aura; he didn’t want him to go down that rabbit hole. He knew too, what that feeling was. “I didn’t have any friends either until dad brought me home.”

_Brought him home? But I thought…._

“You’re adopted?” the sudden realization voiced. “When?”

“I think I was seven or eight. It was a Sunday, I remember. He made pancakes and waffles with lots of whipped cream on top,” Felix chuckled looking back fondly at the memory. “He was nervous; he wanted me to like him. Meanwhile, I’d already made up my mind. I loved him, because he cared enough to adopt me, to give me a home and someone to call ‘Dad’.” Felix looked up, staring Changbin in the eyes. “He gave me all I ever wanted.”

The words hit Changbin in a heartbeat and there it was again the ticking time bomb ticking away, closer to the boom. _He cared enough to adopt me, to give me a_ _home…_ He’d done the same for him. At the full age of eighteen, he’d still cared enough to adopt him, give him a home, someone to call ‘Dad.’ Changbin had a family once, and maybe just maybe, he could have one again. With an annoying little brother in the mix. Changbin found himself thinking fondly of the idea; he loved it. More than anything in a long time.

Changbin took one look in Felix’s eyes. He was willing to get there. Slowly and not all at once, but willing.

“He really loves you,” Changbin mustered; it was all he could really say after what Felix told him. It was the obvious answer.

“He loves you too, you know? You’re just too strong headed to see it.” Felix threw a pillow at him. It lightly touched him with how weak the throw was, but it made Changbin smile anyway.

“I won’t be able to move much for a couple days,” Felix changed the topic swiftly, an underlying suggestion peeking at the edge of his words. “Showering is going to be extremely difficult,” he let on.

“Sounds like a you problem, kid.”

Felix corrected him with the wag of his finger.“It sounds like an _us_ problem; you’re bathing me,” he cheekily smiled. He was kidding, obviously, but Changbin didn’t have to know that. The look on his face was worth it- priceless. “Just so you know, I do two lathers of shampoo and have an intricate conditioning routine,” he fueled the fire even more.

He was stupidly annoying, it made Changbin smile. Smiling felt good; he could get used to it. And for once, Changbin believed in the unimaginable- it would all be okay again. 

Someday. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although it is listed as being done, this fic is not completed ! I have more in store for Felix and Changbin. Please be patient:) I will update, I promise, but it'll take a while. So stay tuned ! :)


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